Times of Joy and Sorrow
by bustoparadise
Summary: Arnold and Kevin are best friends. But can their bond survive the challenges the church faces in Africa? Or Kevin's reaction to Arnold's marriage proposal to Nabulungi? Unconventional Pricinghamlungi.
1. Chapter 1

It's a preparation-day three months after Kevin and Arnold arrived in Uganda. Three sets of companions sit at the Kigali Café, maps and forms and brochures in front of them, going over the logistics of the Church of Arnold's volunteer efforts.

"All right," says Rob McKinley, "let's pray."

Everyone except Kevin bows their head immediately. Kevin takes a long sip of his coffee and for one shining moment feels no guilt—until he notices Sister Kimbay watching him from behind the cash register. He quickly bows his head.

"Heavenly Father," Rob says, "give us the wisdom to choose where we are most needed, that we might best serve you." He pauses—Kevin can imagine his grimace—then adds, "May the Force be with us, that we shall live long and prosper." Despite being pro-Church of Arnold, Rob hasn't been able to adjust to everything about his new faith.

"Live long and prosper," everyone parrots.

"So, all in favour of the orphanage?" Rob says, holding up the pamphlet.

Arnold, Mafala, and Nabulungi put their hands up almost in time with Rob. Nabulungi beams; that one had been her suggestion. Kevin and Elder Eric "Poptarts" Thomas are the only ones that liked Kevin's idea of the work skills program with the Red Cross. Which is fine. Helping people is all that matters.

"All right," Rob says, smiling. "Kids win the day!"

"I'll text the schedule to everyone," Nabulungi says—a running joke, since she learned months ago what texting really was.

Arnold explodes with laughter; Kevin flinches at the sound. Some of his coffee spills down the side of his cup. As Kevin wipes off the table, everyone except him and Arnold gets up to leave. Suddenly, Arnold blurts out, "Oh! Sister Hatimbi! I think I need you today to type out God's newest revelation: the Song of Galactica."

The coffee taste in Kevin's mouth becomes a hundred times more bitter. Arnold usually runs every new book or verse by Kevin—unless it's something he thinks up on the spot to spend time with Nabulungi, which, unfortunately, results in stories that are either unintelligible or inappropriate for a holy book. This is the first Kevin has heard of any Song of Galactica.

Nabulungi practically bounces onto the balls of her feet with excitement. "Of course, Elder Cunningham. I'm free at four o'clock, if you are."

"Yeah, that works great," he says softly. The two stare into each other's eyes.

Kevin speaks up. "So am I, if you'd like some help."

Arnold doesn't shift his gaze from Nabalungi for a second. "Oh, no thanks, buddy."

With a, "Live long and prosper, brothers," Mafala starts to leave. Nabulungi follows her father, flashing Arnold a grin over her shoulder. A flush creeps up Arnold's neck and Kevin wrestles down a sigh.

"Another verse to the Book!" Rob grins. "Such a blessed day!" Rob doesn't seem to mind Arnold wasting everyone's time. He turned a blind eye to Arnold and Nabulungi's romance when they were still Mormon missionaries; now, he's actively supportive. He calls it "sweet," and jokes about how jealous he is.

"I'm so excited!" says Arnold. "Last time I was over at her dad's place..." Kevin has already heard the mind-numbing details, and tunes Arnold out. He only begins listening when Arnold blushes and says, "Um, well, not like I need to tell you guys about kissing." Kevin's stomach clenches as it always does whenever Arnold talks about_ that_.

Kevin says what always won him praise at home: "My first kiss is going to be on my wedding day."

He senses Rob glance his way. Eric looks surprised and a touch disbelieving; Arnold looks surprised then impressed.

"Really?" Arnold says. "In front of everyone? Aren't you worried you won't be good at it?"

The idea makes him laugh. "No, I'm not."

Rob says, "I've only ever kissed," he shudders melodramatically, "_girls_. They don't count."

"And you've got your girlfriend—Clarissa, right?" Arnold says to Eric.

Eric pauses, then says, "Had."

Kevin winces in sympathy. Arnold gasps, saying, "Oh gosh, that sucks! What happened?"

"'We're two different people now,' she says." Eric glares at the tabletop.

Kevin knows what question Arnold is going to ask next, and tries to stop him. "So—"

But Arnold speaks over him. "It's not because of the Church of Arnold, is it?"

Eric shakes his head. "Of course not." He glances above, as if checking that God's not readying a lightningbolt to smite him with. Eric Thomas should never play poker.

Arnold flinches. For a second, Kevin hates Eric for being a poor liar and Clarissa for dumping him.

Eric quickly adds, "I think both of us always knew our love wasn't strong enough to last my mission. Not like you and Sister Hatimbi, prophet."

It's the one subject that can always be counted on to brighten Arnold's mood. "Did you notice she's done something to her hair?" he blurts out. "She looks a lot more like Zoe from _Firefly_, and that's, well, that's really..." his face flushes bright red and Kevin scowls, "um...great."

Eric grins wolfishly and says, "_Nice_." He holds out his fist; Arnold fist-bumps with a loud giggle.

Kevin has to interrupt before this goes any further. "Guys, we call the women in our church 'sisters' for a reason. Let's cool it on that sort of talk, all right?" He can feel Rob's gaze on him, though he doesn't acknowledge it.

"Oh, sorry," Eric says. "Although...well, I didn't think we were being too rude..." He glances at Rob, then says, "Huh—you know, Elder Cunningham, can we talk more about this? Privately?"

Kevin catches Rob giving Eric a _good job!_ nod. Eric stands and goes to the counter. Arnold follows with a sympathetic frown. Even just a few weeks ago, he would've been signalling for Kevin to follow, terrified that he'd make a mistake. Now, he's gotten a lot more comfortable helping others. Kevin's chest warms with pride.

Rob's knee bumps against Kevin's despite their table being much less crowded than it was a second ago. Kevin tries not to grit his teeth.

"I always felt uncomfortable in these conversations, too," Rob says sympathetically.

Kevin forces his smile to remain. His and Rob's unfortunate misunderstanding when Kevin first arrived has only gotten worse. With the creation of the Church of Arnold, Rob no longer represses his gayness nor tells Kevin to repress his own; instead, he treats Kevin as if Kevin is a baby bird that needs to be coaxed out of its nest.

"I remember those chats with other guys," Rob reminisces. "Desperately trying to think of what to say if someone asked me who I 'liked,' always wondering if I was going to say something wrong, looking at girls and trying to force myself to see what other guys saw in them."

Kevin's heart skips a beat. This does sound familiar—except for that last point. He's never forced himself to look at girls. He's never wanted to.

"Of course," Rob continues, "being a Mormon, I could usually duck out of the conversation. Say something about God, or Jesus, or keeping myself pure."

Right again. Kevin takes a sip of his coffee to hide his face from Rob's sympathetic smile and probing blue eyes. If he's not gay, why on earth does he have so much in common with Rob?

"And then I'd lie awake wondering why I wasn't normal, wondering why God had made me something he hated," says Rob.

Kevin has never done this. He just assumed God was looking out for him, keeping his soul and body pure for the day he met his future wife. It was part of what made Kevin special. But, if, as Kevin is beginning to suspect, there is no God, then what's keeping him from thinking about girls the way Arnold and Eric do?

"I've dated girls." Kevin's words sound weak in his own ears.

"And won't kiss any until your wedding day."

"Heck, I liked them, but," he shrugs, "I wasn't in love with any of them."

"Did you ever want to kiss them?"

Kevin says, "I'll want to when I meet that special someone," but his mouth is dry because he realizes he's lying. He gulps his coffee.

"I'm just wondering," Rob grins, friendly and open, "just a teensy, itsy-bitsy little thought: Can you picture it? Kissing a woman? Holding her?"

_No. Am I supposed to be able to?_ He does not want to feel this exposed in front of Rob McKinley. Rob always laughs a few seconds too long at Kevin's jokes, always finds some excuse to touch Kevin, and always watches Kevin with an attentiveness that makes him uncomfortable.

_But if I were gay_, Kevin realizes, _it wouldn't be uncomfortable, would it? I'd like it. _

Relief washes over him, giving him the strength to say, "Elder McKinley, I appreciate your good intentions, but I'm not gay."

Worryingly, Rob's sympathy doesn't falter. "Of course you're not, Elder Price. Still, I'm glad we had this talk. If, someday, you ever want to continue it, _well_! You know where I am." He giggles as he stands up.

Arnold and Eric are talking with Sister Kimbay. Eric turns to Rob when he stands.

"Thanks, Elder Cunningham!" Eric says.

Everyone says goodbye. Rob gives Kevin's shoulder a small squeeze before he and Eric leave. _He thinks I'm in denial_. But Kevin isn't. Right?

"Want to go check out some blankets?" Arnold says.

They leave the café and walk into the street, heading to Sister Ameya's stall. Before Kevin realized he would need every penny he'd ever saved to complete his two-year mission, he dreamed of shipping one of these blankets home. Now, he wouldn't even if he could. Sister Ameya's new religion influences her craft: there's a blanket depicting Moroni descending from the Enterprise, one of Jesus bringing Lazarus out of a blue box Arnold calls a TARDIS, another of Joseph Smith becoming intimate with a frog. They wouldn't fit in well back in Salt Lake City.

Kevin asks, "So, what'd you and Elder Thomas talk about?"

"Oh, he asked if he could date somebody on his mission if he finds someone he likes. I said sure, as long as it doesn't interfere with our mission. Like the way me and Nabulungi do it."

Kevin sighs. "About that...I have to say, I'm a little worried about this Song of Galactica. Remember those verses about Piers Anthony?"

"I tore them up before it got into the actual book," Arnold mumbles. He can't even meet Kevin's gaze.

"And the Visitation of Lazarus Long among the Nephites?"

"God revealed to me to delete it, so it worked out!"

"Every time you visit her without an idea, we get a book that either makes no sense, or contradicts what comes before."

"It'll be different this time! Really!"

Kevin raises his eyebrows.

"I'll pray on it?" Arnold stares at Kevin so pleadingly, so hopefully, that Kevin's misgivings become whispers. Maybe this time it really will be different. Kevin can't stay mad at him for long.

The two turn back to the mission. They smile and wave at villagers as they pass. After a while, Arnold asks, "So, um, what did you and Elder McKinley talk about?"

If Kevin could ask this question of anyone, it'd be Arnold. A few moments pass before it comes out. "Do you think I'm...you know...gay?"

Arnold doesn't say no. Damn him, he doesn't say no. "The Book of Arnold says that the angel Namaah came down among the Mormons and said, 'Love as thou wilt. All shipping and kinks are cool in God's eyes, excepting underage, incest and dubcon.' That includes if you like guys, or, heck, if you have feelings for girls who maybe aren't going to be your future wife. It's healthy! It's normal."

_And if I don't have these feelings...does that mean I'm not healthy or abnormal?_

Some of this must show on his face, for Arnold quickly grabs his hand and squeezes. "You're struggling. I get that. This isn't what we were told by our bishops or our parents. But it _feels_ right. God can't punish us for feeling what comes naturally. What loving father would do that to his children? Elder Price, whatever your feelings are, you don't have to turn them off anymore."

Kevin can't help but admire Arnold's confidence even through his confusion. "What if there's nothing to turn off?" He grins, trying to make it sound like a joke.

Arnold stares at him like he's speaking a foreign language. Kevin's heart sinks until Arnold says, "Oh!" like he's figured it out. "Do things," he starts whispering, "not work right?"

Now Kevin has no idea what he's talking about.

Arnold gulps. "Um." He glances around. When no one's nearby, he whispers, "Down there?"

That question is so startling, so beyond any discussion Kevin has ever had, that he blurts out the truth.

"Of course they work—" His senses return a second later. "Jeez! Elder Cunningham, that question is _completely_ inappropriate. Remember our 'even best friends have boundaries' talk?"

Unbidden, he remembers his fourteen-year-old self confessing to his father that he sinned in his sleep that night. "We can't control what happens in our sleep, son," Dad replied, calm and steadying. "Not our dreams, not our bodies. God understands and forgives." Kevin feels a sudden, powerful longing for his father, who'd know just what to say to set his world right.

Instead, he has Arnold, who mumbles, "Sorry," and looks at him worriedly—as if Kevin's sick. As if something's wrong with him. "But...you've _never_ wanted to look at girls or guys? Or touch them?"

_No._

Kevin shrugs, giving a hollow-sounding laugh. "Maybe we should do some work on this Song of Galactica. What's this show about, pal?"

For a terrible moment, Arnold keeps looking worried. Then he smiles cheerily. "Oh, there are these Twelve Colonies that've made these robots called Cylons..."


	2. Chapter 2

It's five-thirty in the Hatimbi hut. Mafala, the church's unofficial cultural expert, is reading over the Song of Galactica. Arnold watches anxiously. Mafala isn't smiling.

When he speaks, his voice is grim. "'Humanity has to shove the Cylons of sin out of the airlock of their lives before the Cylons take over. For they seem human, but are not, and if you kill them they just download into a new body anyway because they're always around you and they could look like anybody, so constant vigilance!'"

He sighs. "I would suggest, prophet, that there be no verses talking of killing. We, your faithful, know you mean a metaphor—but others might read this and be confused, thinking that certain people are not human and should be killed. Perhaps this is not the greatest revelation God can give to a war-torn country?"

Tightness forms in Arnold's chest: he _hates_ disappointing Mafala. "God's…having an off day," he mutters.

"Not every revelation can be perfect," Nabulungi says. Arnold's heart skips a beat. It's still amazing when someone stands up for him. "You'll have a better one next time." With a dizzying smile, she squeezes his hand.

He squeezes back, then he sighs. Kevin will use this as yet another reason why he shouldn't be so close to Nabulungi. And maybe he's right. It always gets so hard to think with her around...

"Perhaps..." Nabulungi says, looking thoughtful. "Is there nothing of peace in the Song of Galactica, Elder Cunningham?"

"Well, sure, later in the sea—um, verses, but those got a little weird for a sci-fi...song. I never liked them much."

"But peace happened?"

Arnold shrugs. "Yeah, between the Cylons and Galacticans." He realizes what he just said. "Oh my God! The Cylons aren't sin. They're another people who exploded some planets and did some bad things. And how does God want us to respond to that?"

Mafala says, "Forgiveness." Nabulungi kisses Arnold quickly on the lips before sitting in front of her typewriter.

There's a knock at the door. Outside is Gotswana, looking troubled. "It's about the results of your latest test, Mafala," the doctor says quietly. "Can we step outside?"

"Oh, no," Arnold whispers as Mafala steps outside and closes the door. "No, not him, this can't be—"

Nabulungi growls softly in frustration. "Finally!" she hisses. "I told him to come at four-thirty, not five-thirty."

"Huh?"

She grabs Arnold by the shoulders, whips his glasses off and kisses him passionately. He begins to resist—what about her dad?—but then her tongue flickers over his lips and he forgets why he's resisting. A moment later, they share their first open-mouthed kiss.

His pulse is so loud that for an instant he thinks it's thunder. His hands feel her springy hair and the smooth, slightly damp skin of the back of her neck.

She whispers, "I love you," into his mouth—oh, God, he feels like he can fly.

He pants, "I know," back.

Then she breaks the kiss completely, her brows tight with worry. "Don't you—I thought—"

_ARNOLD, YOU IDIOT!_

"It means I love you, too!" Words spill out of him, growing louder and louder. "It's from _Star Wars_! WHEN HAN'S ABOUT TO BE FROZEN—"

Nabulungi begins kissing his neck; Arnold thanks God that his natural sloppiness leads to his tie constantly being loose. Suddenly, _Star Wars_ isn't important. He pulls her close, until every part of them is touching, and kisses her ear and jawline. She giggles breathily; the sound sends sparks whirling through his bloodstream. So many places to touch, parts of her to explore, sounds to hear her make...

He whispers in her ear, "We have time for...?" He can't say what he wants—"Respectful young men don't talk about _it_, Arnold," he hears his father say—heck, he's not even sure _what_ he wants, so licks her earlobe instead of finishing his thought.

She pants, her breath stroking his cheek like warm fingers. "Don't know," she mumbles thickly.

He kisses her cheekbone between each word he slurs out. "More time when we're married."

Her lips find his as she murmurs, "Mmhmm." Her tongue begins to slip into his mouth. Suddenly, she steps away, her swollen lips parted, her eyes wide. "Married?" she repeats.

Mafala jerks the door open. Seeing the two of them, he glowers. Nabulungi glances at her father, then continues staring at Arnold, as if her father's anger doesn't matter. She probably doesn't have, "_And if either of you lay a hand on her...I will give you my AIDS!_" playing in her head.

Arnold blurts out, "THERE WAS SOMETHING IN MY EYE!" He winces—he hadn't meant to be so loud. "Uh, thank you, Naruto," he says, taking his glasses from her and putting them on. "I mean, Nabulungi."

Mafala throws back his head and laughs. Arnold starts in surprise. Nabulungi finally looks at her father.

Mafala grins at his daughter. "That was clever, dearest," he says fondly. "You might've gone over more of the details with Gotswana, though. He read my test results off of what was clearly a blank piece of paper."

Nabulungi's jaw muscles bulge for an instant. Then she moves to her father and throws her arms around him in a tight hug. "Baba," she coos. "You know how much I love and respect you. But I needed some time alone with Elder Cunningham to talk."

"Ah, yes—talk," Mafala says. His gaze meets Arnold's. Arnold blushes and stares at his shoes. "And you deceived me," Mafala continues, his voice grave.

"The Book of Arnold allows a child to disobey a parent—" Nabulungi begins.

Arnold is forced to interrupt. "Um, 'obey thy father and mother unless they're being jerks' is really more for the big things, like your dad beating your mom and stuff."

"Oh? It is?" Nabulungi glances at him with a surprise that Arnold suddenly doubts. "Whoops! Oh well. I suppose God needs to rewrite that part."

Mafala kisses his daughter on the forehead. "I was young once too, my dove. I know those aches and urges. But, if you need to talk with Elder Cunningham privately, you can keep the door open next time."

For a moment, Nabulungi doesn't say anything. Then she brightly says, "Yes, Baba!" and kisses his cheek. She turns to Arnold, and stares deeply into his eyes, a thoughtful look on her face.

Xander from _Buffy_ says, "Bringing up marriage after two seconds of making out. Smooth move."

Anya adds, "That's something a strangely literal ex-vengeance demon would do, not a prophet—or someone _normal_."

Arnold wishes he could stop thinking for one second. He steps toward Nabalungi. "I—"

"It's late," Mafala interrupts. "Time for you to be getting back, prophet."

"That's a good idea," Nabulungi seconds. Arnold's heart stops. She doesn't want to marry him. Why would she?

"To think," she adds quickly, reaching out to him and touching his cheek. Arnold gasps in relief. "We'll talk tomorrow?"

"Yes." He kisses her knuckles; the gesture feels hopelessly childish now that he's gotten a taste of something more. "Until the morrow,_ nîn_ _meleth_."

Nabulungi giggles, which makes Arnold feel better. No matter what happens, they have this.

Arnold leaves, his thoughts whirling. He hadn't known he was thinking about marriage until he said it. He doesn't know the first thing about getting married in a foreign country. What if he can't do it? They could get married in Salt Lake City—but Nabulungi hasn't mentioned going there ever since she learned that Salt Lake City was a metaphor.

"A marriage proposed in a fit of lust is no true proposal," his father sneers. Arnold frowns, but the more he thinks about it, the more he agrees. The walk to the mission gives him a long time to think up all the reasons against marrying Nabulungi right now.

He enters the mission, gives a distracted wave to the ex-Mormons, then heads to his room. As he opens the door, he hears a crinkling of paper that sounds vaguely familiar. He opens the door to find Kevin lying on his bed and reading from the Book of Arnold. Kevin did all the p-day chores he refuses to let Arnold do: the room is swept and dusted, their laundry is done and put away (an impressive task since they have to do their laundry by hand), Arnold's bed is extra straightened.

"How'd it go?" Kevin grins brightly, though not as whitely now that he's drinking coffee regularly.

"Pretty good." Arnold is taking off his shoes when he remembers where he heard that crinkling sound before. "Were you reading something?"

Kevin glances at the Book of Arnold. "Of course!" There's something a bit off about Kevin's grin.

"Huh." Arnold considers staying silent—but even as he considers this, he's talking. "It's just I've had to hide a lot of comics, and whenever I stuffed 'em under the mattress they'd make that sound that I heard coming in, which isn't the sound of pages turning, 'cuz that sounds completely different, and it really hurts that you're hiding something from me."

Glowering, Kevin digs under the mattress, grabs the magazine, tosses it at Arnold, then rolls onto his side to face away from him.

Arnold gawps at the title. "This is _Vogue_. Why are you reading a girl's fashion magazine?"

"Take a look at the pictures," Kevin grumbles.

They're of beautiful women wearing the latest secular fashions, which means a lot of skin. Arnold suddenly remembers his conversation with Kevin earlier today; his conversation with Nabulungi had pushed it out of his mind. This is as close as an ex-Mormon could get to porn.

Both _Kevin touching himself—Eww!_ and _Kevin touching himself—Hot!_ blare in Arnold's mind. He ignores both reactions. What's important is that Kevin would never do anything like this if he weren't desperate.

"It didn't work," Kevin whispers.

"What didn't?"

"The pictures. Those women. I couldn't feel anything."

_Rob is going to be over the moon. _Arnold opens his mouth. Kevin interrupts with, "Before you say it..." and pulls a magazine from beneath his pillow. Arnold picks it up: it's _Men's Health_. There's an ad or two with a shirtless guy selling exercise equipment.

"Nothing," Kevin says dismally. "Nothing, nothing, nothing." He sighs heavily.

The last time Kevin sounded this lost was after a nightmare the day General Butt-Fucking Naked approached the Church of Arnold wanting to join. Arnold isn't sure that the trauma of being forced to accept the man who shoved a book up your rectum as a new brother in Christ compares with not having a sex-drive, but apparently they're in the same league for Kevin. That's all he needs to know.

Like he did after the nightmare, he gets into bed with Kevin and hugs him from behind. Kevin stiffens—he always hates that first contact—then, wiry muscle by wiry muscle, he relaxes. Arnold tries to ignore how his pulse speeds up.

Kevin laughs a broken little laugh. "I'm supposed to get married. Even if I'm not a Mormon, my parents could be proud of that. A wife, a family...Jack could still look up to his big brother..."

Slowly, Arnold gets it. _Kev can't be the world's greatest Mormon anymore. He doesn't want to fall any farther._

Arnold runs his fingers through Kevin's hair. "We'll figure something out. Pictures don't work for everybody."

Arnold's heart beats faster to hear the hope in Kevin's, "They don't?"

"Sometimes people in magazines look _too_ perfect. You should look at real people. There's Sister Kimbay, Sister Ameya, E—and others. You could probably flirt your way into a free blanket from Sister Ameya," he teases.

Kevin chuckles. "Think I'll keep to rule 77 for now. 'Do not flirt,'" he clarifies, figuring, quite rightly, that Arnold has no idea what rule 77 is.

"If you want to break it, feel free. Your own prophet broke it, after all."

A non-committal grunt is Kevin's reply.

They fall into a comfortable silence. As his friend breathes against him, Arnold suddenly imagines himself saying, "Well, there is _one_ way to figure out if you're gay or not, pal..."

Arnold purses his lips to make sure this doesn't come out of his mouth. This isn't like his crush on Han Solo or Captain Mal or Captain Jack, who are on the other side of a TV screen, or the guys at school who never knew Arnold existed. Nabulungi is in love with him and Kevin is his best friend: that's more than he deserves. He'll die before he does anything to change it.

He squeezes Kevin's hand and goes to get his Kindle. He hears himself telling Nabulungi, "So, sometimes I have more-than-friendly feelings for my best friend. You're still cool marrying me, right?" She would shake her head, tears in her eyes, because she loves him and he's hurt her. Or maybe she would be disgusted with him. Or, oh God, she'd _tell Kevin_ about Arnold's feelings...

_Heavenly Father, what am I going to do?_

God doesn't answer. Middle Earth does; Arnold reads _The Two Towers_ and sinks into a comfortingly different world, escaping his troubles for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

The Church of Arnold has shaved two hours off the 9:30 am to 9:30 pm proselytizing time required by the LDS Church, which means everyone gets up at 7:30 am rather than 6:30. Despite the extra time to sleep, Arnold doesn't feel well-rested. The only ex-Mormon who looks like they slept worse than him is Elder Church. He appears not only tired, but tense: he keeps biting at his bottom lip, and his leg constantly jiggles up and down.

"Everything okay, Elder?" Arnold asks as he passes him on the way to the Poptarts box. Since the LDS Church stopped funding their mission, Eric stopped hoarding his Poptarts stash.

A shrug and "Fine," is Church's reply.

"Really? 'Cuz you don't look—" Kevin nudges Arnold's shoulder to keep him moving. Arnold figures he was being inappropriate again. Thank God that his companion understands boundaries.

The villagers, believers and non-believers both, come in for their sugary breakfast. Nabalungi doesn't get in line but hurries to Arnold's side, Mafala following.

Their hellos are strained. Nabulungi keeps fiddling with her tie, and Arnold keeps opening and closing his mouth. He can't focus past the voices of his parents and his favourite fictional characters. (Peter Parker says propose on the spot; Captain Jack Harkness shudders at the thought of marriage; Picard suggests that she's the only girl who's ever liked him back, so maybe he's being a little hasty...)

"I will not hold you to what you said when you had something in your eye," Nabulungi blurts out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Kevin's quizzical glance. "Um, that's...yeah, probably a good idea. It just sorta slipped out." Sweat is pooling in his armpits. He tries to wet his tongue, but can't. She's going to leave him. Why would she stay with him when he just admitted there's no future?

"That doesn't mean—" he begins.

"Elder Cunningham?" It's Elder Church. Elder Neeley stands beside him, a hand on his companion's shoulder.

_WHY NOW?_ "Y-yes, Elder?"

Elder Church is quiet and urgent. "I need to get to Yunna today." Yunna, despite being a three-hour ride from the village, is a popular spot due to its telephone lines and internet café. The mission's phone line left with the Mormon Church; in the choice between buying food and paying the phone bill, food won.

Church inhales deeply, then says, "I just got a letter from my dad. He's...not happy. I need to talk to my mom. _Now_."

Arnold feels utterly unequipped to deal with this. "Oh. Oh God. Well, okay! Heck, we'll just DO SOME PROSELYTIZING THERE! THAT ACTUALLY WORKS OUT PRETTY WELL WITH THE SCHEDULE—"

"I will ask Elder Butt-Fucking Naked for his jeeps," Mafala says calmly, which makes Arnold realize how loud he was getting.

"I will spread the word that we are going to Yunna," Nabulungi says. Before she leaves, she touches Elder Church's shoulder and gives him a nod that perfectly says, _We're going to get through this_. Elder Church responds with a tiny smile. In just one moment, she's done more for him than all of Arnold's babbling.

Kevin says, "Elder Church, shall we pray?" Arnold starts in surprise. How could he have forgotten that?

Elder Church nods curtly, looking miles away. Kevin leads the prayer. It's short and to the point, a request that God bless their journey to Yunna and bless what Elder Church must do.

_If the Church of Arnold only had me leading it, we would've died off in the first week._ Arnold silently adds a prayer thanking God for everyone around him.

They get to Yunna at noon. Everyone piles out of the jeeps, stretching after the long ride. Elders Church and Neeley head straight to the café. Gossip has spread; no one seems surprised by this. Arnold is surprised when Neeley leaves the café at a jog and asks him and Kevin to join them.

"I think we're going to need all the prayers we can get," he says worriedly.

So they join and pray silently, accompanied by the constant sounds of buzzing flies and Elder Church pacing and talking quietly into one of the payphones on the far wall.

"Brother," Elder Church says to Elder Neeley at one point, "can you find some battered women's shelters near home?" Neeley hurries to a computer terminal, logs in then repeats a few names and addresses.

After almost a half hour, Elder Church hangs up. "She said she'd email me when she got there," he says. His hands are shaking; Arnold's instinctive reaction is to reach out, but Elder Church moves to a terminal and logs on before he can.

"Praise Christ," Kevin says.

They pray and wait. Arnold suspects not a lot of proselytizing is getting done; not a half-hour goes by without one of the congregation dropping into the café for a coffee or a pop. He can't blame them.

At one point, Sister Kimbay and Kevin are up at the front, her buying some roasted peanuts and him buying a large coffee. They chat lightly. Sister Kimbay rests her hand on Kevin's, just for a second, and he doesn't pull away.

When Kevin returns to his chair with his coffee and gets into the prayer position, Arnold mutters, "Thought you said you wouldn't break rule 77."

Kevin stares blankly at him. "I didn't break it." He begins to frown. "Right?"

Arnold can't help but giggle, which annoys Kevin and causes Neeley to ask, "What's up?"

Arnold is about to make something up when his gaze falls on Elder Church, who's watching them curiously. His father might abuse (or already is abusing) his mother because their son joined a church started by Arnold Cunningham. The giggle dies in Arnold's throat.

"NOTHING!" At Kevin's 'lower the volume' gesture, he continues with, "I, uh, forgot."

"You guys don't have to stay," Elder Church says. "It's kind of in God's hands now, isn't it?" Weirdly, Elder Church looks at Arnold as he says this, as if he expects him to know. Sometimes, even the Elders start believing he's special.

"Well, sure, but we're happy to stay," Arnold says.

There's only so much praying and feeling miserable he can do, though. Eventually, Arnold logs on and checks the Paypal account. They've got fifteen more dollars than when he checked a week ago. He updates the church Twitter ("ChurchofArnold: Thanks 4 ur donations! With just $5 more, maggotsinscrotum will need a new name! LL&P & God bless!"), monitors the blog (he deletes five "BURN IN HELL SINNERS!" comments and three "Ur church is fr fags!1!"), uploads some photos to the Facebook page and checks the hits on their Youtube channel. Sister Damisi's testimonial that she forgives the warlord that killed her husband is up to 64,000 hits. Rob was concerned that the video might be exploitative, but Sister Damisi insisted they post it. "More people need to know the power of forgiveness," she said happily.

Arnold quickly checks his own email and finds a new one from Mom: his dog, Mouse, and his cat, Mister, miss him a lot; she hopes he's wearing enough sunscreen and not upsetting his tummy with spicy food; he's in her prayers every day because she loves him so much, but won't he please give up this scary cult business and go back to the Mormon Church? It's better than the one line he got from Dad two months ago: "We'll talk when you've either given up this nonsense or come home."

Arnold writes a quick reply to his mom thanking her for news of home and her prayers, and reminding her that his church is doing a lot more good in Uganda than the Mormon Church ever did. After checking to make sure no one's looking at his screen, Arnold Googles foreign marriages in Uganda, then low sex drives, pulling up some very useful information on both.

Kevin also logs in to another terminal. From the guilt-ridden expression on his face after a few moments of clicking and reading, Arnold knows that his parents sent him another email. Arnold logs out of his terminal and puts his hand on Kevin's shoulder.

"I think if I printed this one out, it'd be five pages," Kevin says. He smiles, but Arnold can tell he doesn't really think it's funny. From what he can read over Kevin's shoulder, the email is a dizzying amount of quotes from the Book of Mormon.

_I was never a great Mormon; the Church of Arnold is easy for me._ Panic washes over Arnold at the wistful expression Kevin turns to the computer screen. _But Kev was practically the next Joseph Smith...What if he goes back?_

Arnold glances at Elders Church and Neeley and and thinks about how far away from home they all are.

Elder Church jolts upright in his chair. "It's here," he says, doubleclicking.

"ALL RIGHT!" Arnold whoops. Elder Neeley laughs and Kevin grins as he logs out.

Elder Church reads the email intently. His words are raspy, as if he hasn't had water in days: "She's staying with him."

"What?" Kevin asks.

Elder Church calmly closes the screen and exits the terminal—wincing as the computer tells him how much money he owes.

"I got this," Kevin says, touching Church's shoulder before going to the cash register. As one of the few ex-Mormons who's in the black, it's not the first time Kevin has made that offer.

"I'll pay you back," Elder Church says. He speaks casually, but there's a horrifying dullness to his eyes.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, brother," Elder Neeley whispers.

Arnold can't think of anything to do other than hug Elder Church, but Church moves aside as Arnold steps forward. The Elder stares at Arnold without expression before heading outside with slow, deliberate steps, as if he's expecting the floor to pitch beneath him at any moment.

Arnold's vision blurs with tears of frustration. _Why, Heavenly Father? Why? Did you want me to pray more? What else could I have done?_

The ride back to Kigali is sombre. Before their dinner of beans-and-rice stew, Arnold says something about God's ways being mysterious that even he has a trouble believing.

Before they tuck in, Nabulungi raises her hand. "If I may, Elder Cunningham?"

"Um, sure."

"I propose that we keep proselytizing in Yunna. Today was a terrible disappointment, but today was just a start. We cannot give up." She looks at Elder Church, who doesn't appear to have heard her.

Until, that is, he wearily says, "We should just go back to the original schedule."

Sister Ameya shakes her head. "No, we shouldn't! When my fucking asshole of a husband hit me, it took me many times to leave him."

Elder Church stirs. "Really?"

"Yes. You keep talking to your mother, white boy. You show her her own strength."

Usually, they call for a vote if they're changing the schedule. This time, no one bothers.

"Thanks for that," Arnold tells Nabulungi after dinner, as she's about to leave for her village. "Wish I'd thought of it."

"We will keep praying," she says simply. "God _will_ hear us."

God has to hear Nabulungi, who's strong and beautiful and knows just what to say and whom Arnold can't imagine his life without. He loves her. She loves him. Why was he making it so complicated?

Arnold kisses her far more inappropriately than he's ever dared in public. He ignores Kevin's throat-clearing at the five-second mark, Mafala's annoyed "Nabu_lungi_, child..." at the ten, and twitters from the onlookers as he loses count.

Nabulungi pulls away, returning for a few quick kisses before she steps, with a sigh, out of his arms.

"Marr—" he begins.

Nabulungi loudly speaks over him. "Maybe we should talk later, Elder Cunningham? After all this?"

"Um, right!" He giggles nervously, risking a quick glance at Kevin and Mafala; they don't appear to have figured out what he was about to say.

"And," Nabulungi glances down, shyly, "to answer your question—yes. The capital of Uganda is Kampala."

Arnold is utterly confused. "Um. Did I ask you that?"

Nabulungi rolls her eyes, but her fond smile softens her annoyance. "You brought it up _yesterday_, Elder Cunningham."

"Live long and prosper, Elders," Mafala says, guiding his daughter by the elbow to the door. Arnold watches her leave, his thoughts racing.

And then it hits.

"GOT IT!" he shouts just as she's on her way out the door. The entire mission turns to stare at him, but only Nabulungi's warmly amused gaze matters.


	4. Chapter 4

The Church of Arnold proselytizes at Yunna the next day, which starts with a prayer for Elder Church's family: for his mother to leave his father, for his father to seek help for alcoholism, for his family to heal.

Kevin joins Elder Church at the internet café that day—and finds that God is silent. After a particularly short phone call, Elder Church reports that his mother keeps saying that she's fine. "She's been _fine_ her whole marriage," he says.

That same day, Arnold emails Kevin a link when the pair stop in for coffee and a quick email check at the café. It leads to a site about "asexuals." It's clearly run by a bunch of lonely losers—lonely _secular_ losers, since they mention masturbation as if it's normal—who just aren't trying hard enough to fit in. Disgusted, Kevin closes the window and says nothing about it to Arnold.

They return to proselytizing. Kevin is preoccupied with not thinking about that website, and Arnold is preoccupied with Nabulungi, who, along with her father, join them for the rest of the day. Arnold and Nabulungi smile and coo at each other, and seem to speak in their own private language. Mafala gets the group its only placement.

The church is in Yunna again the next day: so close to that internet café and the temptation to return to that website. Kevin doesn't. He forces himself to attend to Elder Church. Already one of the quieter missionaries, now Elder Church is downright monosyllabic. Kevin offers the Elder comforting verses from the Bible, the Book of Mormon and the Book of Arnold. Church nods and thanks him, but Kevin can't tell if it has any effect.

He gives in the next day and checks out the site's FAQ.

"**Am I asexual?**

The definition of asexuality is 'someone who does not experience sexual attraction.'...

"**I have crushes on people. I think I sometimes fall in love. Does this mean I'm not asexual?**

"A good proportion of asexuals get crushes on others and fall in love. Emotional and romantic attraction are separate from sexual attraction. For some people they go together, but they are not necessarily connected.

"Most asexuals are physically capable of sex. Some masturbate and some...

"...other people don't 'turn them on'...

"...distinction between asexuality and celibacy...

"...you could make up your own entirely new identity...

"...might feel pressured to fake sexual attractions..."

"Hey, buddy."

Kevin blinks. Tearing his aching eyes from the screen, he sees Arnold standing near him, with Mafala and Nabulungi waiting by the entrance. Glancing at the clock, he calculates how much time he's spent online and gulps. He quickly logs off and pays the cashier. If he keeps spending like this, he'll have to cut back on his coffee habit.

"How are you feeling?" Arnold asks. As usual, he's too loud; Mafala and Nabulungi look at Kevin curiously.

Kevin forces himself to grin, though he's never felt less like doing so. "Ready to spread the good word, little guy."

He isn't, and he doesn't. At least Nabulungi and Mafala cover the other side of the street this time. Their team gets two placements who want follow-ups tomorrow. Kevin tries to listen to the church's triumphs and funny stories on the jeep ride back, but can't focus.

As they go to bed that night, Arnold prays, as usual, but his prayer has a much different subject than his others.

"Heavenly Father, five days ago, I made my companion feel bad because he didn't act the way I thought he should. I'm really sorry about that, Lord. Whatever a person feels or doesn't feel is a part of them, and how can anything that's a natural part of you be bad? I only hope that Elder Price will grow to feel the same way. May the Force be with us, that we may live long and prosper."

Kevin grits out his own prayer. "Heavenly Father, please help us focus on helping the people of Africa. It's the reason that we're here, and the only thing we should be caring about. May the Force be with us, that we may live long and prosper."

What he prays on the inside is: _Please, God, I'll do anything you want—I'll stop doubting, I'll believe in you with all my soul—if you just make me normal._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Quotes taken from the Asexual Visibility and Education Network's FAQ.


	5. Chapter 5

Kevin gets his chance to be normal on his p-day the next day when he, Arnold, Mafala and Nabulungi go for coffee.

"Glad to see you back, Elder Price," Sister Kimbay says, handing him a mocha latté.

"Aw, heck, just try keeping me away," he says, grinning. He feels a moment's unease when she grins back. Since Arnold mentioned his unwitting disregard for rule 77 a few days ago, he's tried not to flirt. However, she's acting no different with him than normal, so he figures that she's just being polite.

Sister Kimbay's smile dims. "May I ask you a question, Elder Price?" At his nod, she continues. "I spoke with a young woman yesterday in Yunna. Her mother is sick with AIDS, she has no father, and she has five younger brothers and sisters. She kept asking me how the Book of Arnold could help her. Elder Price...I could think of nothing to say but 'God loves you.'" She shakes her head sadly. "What do you think I should have said?"

Kevin perks up. This was what he'd trained to do for years. "You spoke from your heart, Sister Kimbay. There aren't any better words than those. You're a farmer throwing out seeds. Some will land on stony ground, some in fertile soil. You may not have gotten a placement, but she'll have those seeds now. The rest is between her and God."

Worry clears from her expression like storm clouds disappearing after rain, showing a glowing sun. "Thank you, Elder Price! All night, I was so angry at myself for not knowing what to say."

"Just do your best. That's all you can do."

She nods. "My best, however, can always be improved...Do you think you could go over some of the Book of Arnold with me after my shift?"

Kevin glances behind him at Arnold. "Elder Cunningham and I would be happy to help."

For some reason, Mafala chuckles. Nabulungi shares a glance with Arnold, then says, "Sorry, Elder Price, but I need to borrow Elder Cunningham to help me with the church's letter to the Red Cross."

"Looks like it'll just be you and me then," Kevin says to Sister Kimbay, who grins.

Kevin gets out of line and heads to the table, only to stop when Mafala advises him, "Swirl your coffee around, Elder Price!"

Confused, Kevin does.

"Don't drink it if you ever hear something solid. That'd be the dried tip of a goat's penis."

"Baba!" squeals Nabulungi, giggling, while Kevin blushes at the thought. Sister Kimbay thumps Mafala in his upper arm and calls him many colourful names; Kevin can't be sure if she's faux-angry or real-angry.

Mafala laughs heartily at Kevin's expression, then explains, "Some people in this village believe it's a love potion."

"I don't," Sister Kimbay assures him, smacking Mafala's arm once more. "I'm Church of Arnold through and through."

"Of course," Kevin replies. He glances at Sister Kimbay, who can't hold his gaze for long, but smiles that smile lots of girls seem to get around him. He smiles back, and she giggles as if he's just said something funny. She looks pretty. Surely he can't be asexual if he knows she looks pretty.

They get together later that day. Kevin has all his books with him, from _Sunshine for the LDS Teenage Soul_ to _The Theological Foundations of the Mormon Religion_. Sister Kimbay naturally wants to get out of the coffee shop, so they go to the mission.

They talk as they walk. Sister Kimbay's family is almost as big as Kevin's: she has an older brother ("I had another, Mawe, but he joined the LRA and no one's heard from his since.") and three younger sisters. Both her parents are still alive ("Which makes me the luckiest girl in the village.") though, like her older brother, they're both working in Kampala ("They can only get time off work to visit once every month or so."). Kevin talks about his own life—his mother who doesn't need to work, his family all living in the same house, his biggest concerns being good grades and godly living—and it's never sounded so foreign.

"I just realized I don't know your first name," Sister Kimbay says.

"Kevin."

"I'm Effu." She rolls her eyes. "You can imagine how many jokes I got about that!"

She has a deep, infectious laugh, and Kevin can't help but laugh along with her.

They reach the mission and sit side by side on the couch. Elders Neeley and Church are playing checkers nearby, and Elder McKinley is humming a showtune of some sort in his office, which means he's doing the mission's paperwork.

"Okay," Kevin says, "let's start with the big question: Why does God allow suffering?"

Effu, clearly thrown, takes a moment to reply. "Because of the Prime Directive." Kevin waits for her to explain it. She says, "Um, God cannot interfere obviously, otherwise there would be no point to faith. 'If I do things right,' God tells Joseph Smith, 'people won't realize I've done anything at all.' Right?"

It departs from the doctrine of original sin—_More than it should_, Kevin thinks, before he remembers that, if God exists, He probably doesn't care—but it seems to work for the villagers. Kevin nods, and Effu relaxes.

"Very good, Sister Kimbay—except, hmm. It kinda makes Heavenly Father sound mean, doesn't it?"

"Um..."

"What's so great about this free will stuff? If God has all this power, if He can stop all the suffering in the world, why doesn't He anyway?"

"Because...because..."

He smiles so she doesn't feel too stressed. "Take as long as you need."

Effu opens her copy of the Book of Arnold and begins searching through it. Kevin reaches into his backpack, pulls out a highlighter and hands it to her. "Here—I've found this helps."

"Thank you. I wish I had more time to read this. I got in trouble the other day for reading when the cafe was empty." She keeps searching for a few more minutes, then stops with a sigh.

"Because the Bridge Builder, Jesus Christ, died for our sins?" she guesses. "Can't I see how you do it, Elder Price?"

He'd like to make her find her own way to answer his question, but he can tell she's getting frustrated. "Sure. We'll do it just like we're proselytizing, okay?"

She nods, and he pretends to ring a doorbell. Her raised eyebrow makes him remember that he's not at the missionary training center anymore—he mimes knocking.

Effu frowns. "What do you want, white boy?"

Kevin beams at her. "Hi, ma'am. I'd like to take a moment of your time to talk to you about a very special book."

"A book? A book? My brother just got gunned down in the street, my husband is dead of AIDS, and warthogs trampled my baby!" For all he knows, warthogs have trampled some villager's baby—so he thinks until Effu chuckles, anyway. "Relax. That was a joke! Warthogs would eat a baby instead of trample it."

_Pumbaa, noooooo!_ Kevin's inner child wails, but Kevin forces a short chuckle.

"I'm sorry to hear what's happened to you and your family. The Book of Arnold is for people just like you: hurting people, who need help and don't know where to turn."

"I know where to turn—left and walk for five miles to the nearest Red Cross."

He grins. "Well, if you ever need a little extra help..." He begins with his standard recap of the story of Joseph Smith, though a part of his soul still shrivels at what he has to say. _Really, Arnold, you couldn't think of anything better than "he lay with a frog"?_

"...land of Salt Lake City," he finishes. On a whim, he adds something he's been working on, "In God's care, there is love; in God's love, there is strength; in God's strength, there is peace. The biggest lie of this world is that this isn't true."

Effu's face glows with the light of the Lord. She tries to put on her disbelieving persona, but can't quite manage it. A male voice murmurs, "Wow." Elders Neeley and McKinley are staring at him with various shades of awe. Elder Church, Kevin notes with concern, is staring intently at the checker board. Either he wasn't listening, or what Kevin said didn't touch him at all.

Rob has a particularly large grin on his face. "OM-gosh, that was _amazing_, Elder Price."

"Heck, it was nothing." He shrugs the way he always did whenever someone praised him before Uganda—and clutches those words to his heart the exact same way. He finds himself thinking, _I hope Heavenly Father noticed how_ incredible _I just was..._

_If He exists_, his new self adds, which deflates his ego quite quickly. What would everyone say if they knew how little he believed his words? _Like a Pharisee, I'm a whitewashed tomb; beautiful on the outside but full of bones and rags within._

He looks from Rob's shining face to Effu's. It works. That's all that matters.

He runs through his exercises with Effu, sometimes playing the villager, sometimes playing the church member. She improves dramatically: soon, she has a ready answer for most of the major questions. It's a great start—they can work on the finer points another day.

Effu glances at the clock: it's almost 11:00 PM. "Oh! I should get home."

"I'll walk you back."

Rob says, "Elder Price, have you forgotten about mission rule 38?"

How convenient that they're suddenly enforcing the rule that no missionary may leave the premises after 10:30 pm. Rob meets Kevin's suspicious gaze without flinching, looking the soul of innocence.

"Please, Elder McKinley, can't he?" Effu says. "At least I won't have to worry about lions on the way home." Kevin has no idea what she's talking about; from the looks on their faces, neither do any of the other ex-Mormons.

Effu grins slyly. "Or was Nabulungi mistaken when she said you returned from the dead after being eaten by lions?"

"Well, that whole resurrection thing is a bit of a blur..." Kevin says quickly. He's never been sure how many villagers believe that story, and isn't about to put it to the test now.

He grabs the flashlight and he walks Effu to the village. It rained while they were in the mission: a chorus of frogs fills the silence. It occurs to Kevin that he's never been alone with a woman before. All his dates were group dates, going to bowling alleys, church potlucks and baseball games, often with parents or other family in attendance.

Kevin wipes his damp palms on his pants. _Is it okay to be nervous?  
><em>

"So..." Effu says. "How did I do today?"

"You did good. Very good. You really stumped me with that evolution question." Kevin makes a mental note to ask Arnold how the church should handle it.

"Maybe God will reveal that truth to our prophet." Effu shrugs. "If not, it probably does not matter how we were created—only that we are here." The conviction in her voice makes Kevin grin. He's _helped_, and that's amazing.

Their conversation continues, easy, meandering, often punctuated with Effu's deep belly-laugh. She seems particularly interested in what he'll do when he returns to the States. He gives her his standard answer—get a business degree from Brigham Young University—then, feeling weirdly dissatisfied, interrupts himself.

"Actually... I think this is the old, pre-Uganda Kevin talking. Have to say, I'm not really sure what I'm going to do." BYU seems off the table now, at the very least.

"Dreams change." Effu sounds uncharacteristically serious. "The Church of Arnold changed mine. I never had any dreams. Just to make enough money for me and my family to eat regularly."

"Not even a daydream? I find that hard to believe."

She's quiet for a moment, then says, "To do something important for my country. I know, I know, it is very...what is the phrase? Cheesy? Corny? But I always wanted to work for the government—well, once that scum Museveni is gone."

"Who?"

"Um, the Ugandan president?" Kevin blushes at his ignorance. "Because his armed thugs are at every voting booth—when voting booths actually are open—he's managed to be president for 24 years."

"That's awful!"

"I know! If I were president, I'd make Uganda free for democracy!" She pauses, then snorts. "Listen to the coffee-shop girl, talking so big."

"Come on, don't put yourself down like that. What else would you do if you were president?"

Kevin has always tried to be in the world but not of the world; politics has never interested him. It clearly interests Effu. Once she starts talking, he can barely keep up.

Nearby high-pitched hyena laughter cuts her off. For a second, Kevin expects to see Arnold. Then Effu grabs his hand in her sweaty one and Kevin realizes that the laugh came from an actual hyena.

"We might have to run," she whispers. "Depending how big the pack is."

Kevin's stomach plummets. "Oh."

They stand stock still. Bushes rustle to their left. "The light," Effu whispers. Kevin has no idea what she means. She grabs the flashlight from his hand and shines it to their left. Eyes gleam bright green from a furry face—_like Scar's eyes_, Kevin thinks. But Scar was a cartoon lion, and this is a real hyena, and maybe there are others, and maybe—

The face vanishes. More bushes rustle as the animal moves farther and farther away. Soon, all they hear is the constant calling of the frogs.

Breath wooshes from Kevin's lungs. Effu giggles softly. As he's trying to catch his breath, she hands him the flashlight back. His fingers are too numb to grab hold; the flashlight thuds on the packed-dirt trail. He begins to bend down, but has only lowered himself a half-inch when Effu stops him with her lips on his.

This is it: God's test. Kevin makes his muscles unclench. He _will_ be normal.

Except he won't. Because in his head there's a voice saying, _No! Not for me!_ It's strong, as Satan's tricks tend to be.

Effu begins to pull back; Kevin leans in. She makes a surprised-sounding "Mmph!"—which becomes a low chuckle as her arms encircle his neck.

_NO!_ booms the voice. God used to talk to Kevin Price: even Heavenly Father's voice wasn't this loud. _NOT FOR ME!_ He forces himself to put his arm around her shoulders.

_YOU DON'T KISS A GIRL BECAUSE YOU WANT TO BE NORMAL!_

Oh, Heavenly Father, what is he doing?

A spotlight lands on the two of them. He and Effu break apart, blinking. It's no spotlight, but the beam of a flashlight. Its wielder yelps, then babbles, "Um! Wow. Uh, sorry! Sorry!"

Arnold seeing this is the perfect punishment. Kevin feels _filthy_.

Without letting go of Kevin's hand, Effu picks up the flashlight. Breathlessly, she says, "Um, watch out for hyenas."

"SURE!" The beam of Arnold's flashlight swings up and down as he flails. "THANKS!"

"Or try to deafen them—that works, too."

Arnold whoops in laughter. "Good one!" To Kevin, he says, "Um, I'll...see you whenever you get back." He opens his mouth to speak, pauses, then changes whatever he was going to say to, "Bye!"

Arnold hurries past them, and Kevin and Effu continue to the village, still holding hands.

"So embarrassing," Effu murmurs. "Hopefully," she nudges him playfully in the ribs, "we used up our awkwardness quota for the day."

_We definitely haven't._ There's got to be some way he can let her down gently. Fortunately, she seems content to walk in silence holding his hand, so Kevin can wrack his brain without distraction.

Kevin hasn't figured anything out by the time they reach her house. He can't go five seconds without swallowing. He inhales shakily, getting ready to speak.

"I really enjoyed getting to know you," Effu says, squeezing his hand.

"Me too." It's not a lie, but it doesn't mean what she obviously thinks it does.

"I have this Tuesday off work. I would love to join you and Elder Cunningham as you proselytize—if you do not think Elder Cunningham would pass out, that is."

Kevin gulps and finally pulls his hand out of hers. "We should...we should probably clear the air about what happened on the trail."

All he hears are chirping frogs for at least ten seconds. Her, "Oh?" is so quiet that he almost misses it.

"You're a great person, Sister Kimbay—really amazing—but I just don't think of you romantically. I—"

"Oh." Her laugh, like all of hers, comes from deep in her belly, but this one is nowhere near infectious. "Okay. Well. Obviously I misread the signs when you kissed me back then held my hand for ten minutes. Silly me."

Had it been ten whole minutes? He'd been too preoccupied to notice. "I think I was just caught up in a surge of...emotions, and I expressed them very inappropriately. It wasn't right or fair of me. I'm sorry."

Effu chuckles, but it's a tight, angry sound. "So, the air is clear. Watch out for hyenas on the way back." Without another word, she goes inside.

He returns to the mission to find the ex-Mormons involved in a game of darts. So much for rule 123—all missionaries must be asleep by 10:30 pm. Kevin slaps his good ol' Mormon smile on his face. Arnold stands when he sees Kevin, eyeing him intently while trying, and failing, to look casual.

Rob McKinley stands ready to throw. Without glancing Kevin's way, he asks, "How was the walk?" His tone is smarmy and gloating—he always knew Kevin was going to fail.

Kevin glares at his district leader. Rob glances his way, then recoils, eyes widening. It's then that Kevin realizes maybe Rob's tone was all in his head and the question had been perfectly innocent.

Kevin busts out the smile again. "No lions."

Rob's a master at turning his feelings off: his expression seamlessly becomes chipper. "Great!" He turns back to the dartboard and throws. His dart hits the wall.

"ELDER PRICE!" Arnold booms. "I HAVE _THE_ _HUNGER GAMES_ BOOK THAT YOU WANTED TO BORROW! IT'S ON MY KINDLE—C'MON!"

They make a quick but not terribly subtle escape to their room.

"Sooooooo," Arnold says, looking a little bit terrified. "_The Hunger Games_ really is a great series, and I totally will loan it to you if you want, and how did the walk go?, except you might not like the third book; I still have my issues with the ending."

Kevin's anger drains in the face of Arnold's frantic concern. He even manages a small, brief smile. "We're not dating." He sighs, remembering Effu's tight, clipped tone. "I really wish I'd figured that out earlier."

Arnold winces. "Yeah, that part...kinda sucks." He squeezes Kevin's shoulder. "Tomorrow is a latter day, buddy." It's a stock phrase for him, but right now Kevin feels a glimmer of hope. A latter day: a chance to do better, a chance to make things right.


	6. Chapter 6

Kevin doesn't get coffee the next morning. He's sure the ex-Mormons notice, but nobody says anything. There are heavy storm clouds on the horizon. It feels to Kevin like a promise of change and renewal.

That promise isn't borne out in the Church of Arnold's morning prayer. "Give Elder Church's mother the strength to leave her husband, and give his father the courage to seek help." Each day, the words become a bit more rote, a bit less special. Elder Church doesn't even look like he means them anymore.

Elder Church sends Neeley from the internet café. Elder Neeley reports that his companion's words were, "One of us should do some good today."

"I should stay to keep him company," Arnold says without hesitation. Kevin was just going to suggest that one of them do that. His little buddy is becoming more and more awesome by the day.

Except when it comes to physical boundaries. Kevin finds his arms pinned to his sides in a tight hug as Arnold says, "Good luck today, Elder Price! May the Force be with you!" Kevin waits the hug out, trying not to roll his eyes, then leaves with Elder Neeley.

Maybe, he realizes later, that hug happened because Arnold was worried about his feelings after his non-date with Effu. He wishes he'd hugged back.

"How've you been?" he asks Elder Neeley.

"I'm okay."

"Really?"

It takes Elder Neeley a moment to answer. "No." He swallows, blinking rapidly, and Kevin realizes he's trying not to cry.

For a moment, he feels a skin-crawling awkwardness. Then he puts his hand on Elder Neeley's shoulder.

Elder Neeley quickly wipes at his eyes. "Gosh. Heh. Sorry, Elder Price." He inhales deeply. "I'm still good to proselytize today."

"You don't have to be." Kevin pushes past his resistance to breaking the rules; a missionary's health is far more important. "We can find a place to sit and talk for a while."

Elder Neeley shakes his head. "Thanks, but no. I feel like all I've done is sit and stew. This is what I need." He's frowning slightly, as if he's not quite sure, but once they actually get proselytizing, he seems to take to it well enough.

They're interrupted two hours into their proselytizing by Arnold, who hurries over to them, looking worried. Wordlessly, he holds out his videocamera, flips open the view-screen and presses play.

Elder Church sits in front of a nondescript wall. "My name is Brian Church of Cheyenne, Wyoming. I'm a former member of the Church of Latter-Day Saints, currently a member of the Church of Arnold serving a two-year mission in Uganda, Africa."

He swallows. "I'm talking to you today because my family has a secret that we've hidden for years. But God's spoken to me and told me I can't hide it any longer. My father, Hubert Church, is an alcoholic. He also," he inhales deeply, "he also abuses my mom when he drinks. Screams at her, insults her, hits her, and one time—I was eight—she had to go to the hospital..." He inhales deeply.

"So many people have turned aside, looked away, ignored what was right under their noses. Just _stop_. Mom, get yourself someplace safe until Dad's sober. Things are _not_ going to get better with him. Dad, please, get help for your disease. I—" Brian pauses, swallows once more, then says, "I just want my family back. That's all. God bless."

The video ends. "He wants to post it to the church's Youtube channel and email it to his old church and his dad's office," Arnold says, looking between Kevin and Elder Neeley.

"That would just make his dad angrier," says Elder Neeley anxiously. They begin to start toward the café, but Arnold stops them, saying he needs to find Mafala and Nabulungi.

"What for?" Kevin asks.

"Well, Mafala knows lots of stuff, and Nabulungi always knows what to do," Arnold replies, a bit surprised that he even has to explain it. Kevin fights an annoyed frown off of his face. He'll do it if it makes Arnold happy.

They find Mafala and Nabulungi then congregate in the café.

Mafala says to Brian, "You know your father best. What do you think he would do if you released this video to everyone he knows?"

"Drink," Brian answers without needing to think. "But once everyone knows, Mom will have no excuse to stay with him. This'll be the shock to her system that she needs. She'll _have_ to leave."

"Perhaps an email to your bishop back home would suffice?" Mafala says.

"It's not enough," Brian says, his voice quivering. He looks away, clears his throat, then forcefully repeats, "It's not enough! All this prayer, for what? Nothing!"

"If you were there in person, I would say put up the video," Nabulungi says. "But, unless someone is there to keep your mother safe—"

"What do you know?" Brian snaps, pacing back and forth. "You don't have a mother!"

Nabulungi's only reaction is to recoil slightly. Someone nearby gasps—Kevin doesn't see who, as he's putting a hand on Brian's shoulder to steer him away from the rest of the group and give him time to calm down.

"Don't!" Brian jerks his shoulder out from Kevin's hand, eyes shining with tears.

Arnold, face flushed, steps into Brian's personal space. "YOU CAN'T TALK TO NABULUNGI LIKE THAT! APOLOGIZE!"

Tears spill down Brian's cheeks. "IF YOU WON'T HELP ME, THEN I'M NOT A PART OF YOUR STUPID FUCKING CHURCH!"

He storms off to the washroom, Elder Neeley right behind. Arnold looks so miserable that Kevin moves to put his hand on Arnold's shoulder—just as Nabulungi reaches for the same shoulder. Their hands hover near each other, only inches apart, and neither move. Nabulungi arcs an eyebrow at Kevin, a nonverbal, _Well?_

Kevin, to his horror, finds himself beginning to glare at her before he snaps out of it and drops his hand. He glances at her to find her looking at him with surprise. Damn. She noticed. His lack of coffee is making him edgier than he ever thought it could.

Not long after, Brian and Elder Neeley leave the washroom, both rather red-eyed and subdued. Kevin waits for Brian to apologize and say that he won't leave the church.

"What I said was unforgivable, Sister Hatimbi," Brian says. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Nabulungi nods and murmurs that she understands. Kevin waits, but Brian doesn't appear to have anything else to add.

"I just—" Arnold begins, but Brian interrupts him.

"I'll make the arrangements with Elder McKinley tonight."

Silence, soon filled by Arnold's awkward, "Um, yeah. Okay. Sure. If that's, um, what you—" Brian's expression turns contemptuous, and Arnold trails off. For a dizzying instant, Kevin wishes Brian Church would drop dead.

Kevin swallows and breathes deeply to calm himself.

Everyone splits up to do some more proselytizing. An hour later, proselytizing becomes even more of a chore when the storm breaks and rain falls in thick, heavy sheets. Despite the umbrellas of the ex-Mormons and the plastic-bag raincoats of the villagers, most people wind up wet and grumpy by the end of the day.

It's a quiet ride back and a quiet supper. Brian Church seems to have gone to that place inside himself he retreats to. Elder Neeley watches his companion, tense and anxious. Arnold, for once, isn't hungry. Nabulungi gives him an extra-long hug before she leaves.

After dinner, Brian sequesters himself in Rob's office for an hour that seems to last a day. The ex-Mormons get a half-hearted game of Go Fish going. Kevin finds it hard to remember the rules of a game he's played since he was six.

"Maybe he should post the video," Elder Neeley says, out of the blue. "Elder Church said God told him to do it. We can't—you know—_ignore_ God. Right?"

"I'm just worried that he's acting more like Starbuck and less like Lee," Arnold says. Receiving blank stares, he launches into a long explanation of Kara 'Starbuck' Thrace and Lee 'Apollo' Adama, characters on the new_ BSG_ who have very different viewpoints. The eyes of the other Elders glaze over. Eric begins to fidget and Elder Davis tries to cover his yawn with his cards.

Kevin interrupts with, "It's just a really complicated situation. I'd rather err on the side of caution, myself. The Book of Mormon says—"

The door to Rob's office opens. Rob and Brian step out, both looking tired and disappointed. Neither seems sure who should speak first. Eventually, Rob steps forward.

"Elder Church has decided that, since we made a commitment to the orphanage, he'll stay with us for two more months. After that, he'll be leaving Uganda and leaving the Church of Arnold. We'll still be proselytizing in Yunna for a few more days to help Elder Church get everything set up."

Kevin's stomach feels like it's filled with lead. Brian won't meet anyone's gaze. Though he makes as if to speak once or twice, he abruptly turns away and goes to his room. Elder Neeley sets down his cards and follows. Nobody continues the game. Rob leads a prayer for wisdom and reconciliation and each pair of companions turns in early that night.

Though Arnold usually starts their nightly prayers, this time it's up to Kevin. "Please, Heavenly Father, keep the family we've made here together. Show Elder Church that we need him here with us. May the Force be with us, that we may live long and prosper."

"Heavenly Father," Arnold says, "help...help me..." He sniffles.

Before Kevin can think of what to do, he's standing up and moving toward Arnold with his arms open. Arnold latches onto him so tightly Kevin gives an audible, "Ooof!" Kevin squeezes Arnold even tighter. The last person he held this fiercely was his mother before he left for Africa.

Arnold mumbles into Kevin's chest. "If I'd—if I'd handled it better, maybe..."

Kevin pats his back. "Don't think about that."

"What if everyone else leaves?"

"They won't. And if they do, well, it'll be a church of you and me, won't it? I'll never leave you." After a second's thought, Kevin frowns—a bad move, implying that others might leave. "And nobody else will, either."

"But I'm a fake. The Elders know it!"

Kevin wishes he could transfer some of his confidence through touch. "It's not about you. It's about all of us, here. They know our mission is bigger than any one of us. God has us all here for a reason."

"And, gosh, Elder Church's poor mother...What if we're not doing enough to help her?"

"God has a plan. We can't see it from here. It hurts, and it's so, so hard, but we have to trust God to do what's right for His children."

"But—"

"No buts, pal. The past is past. We're going to get through this. Tomorrow is a latter day, remember?"

Arnold exhales. Finally, he relaxes. Kevin relaxes too, but doesn't end the hug, though he really should. Bizarrely, he thinks_, Let's see Nabulungi top this._

"Thanks, brother," Arnold says, beaming up at him.

Kevin can't help but grin back, his heart leaping. "You're welcome, brother."

Arnold reaches up to pat Kevin's hair. Kevin, surprised not to feel his usual irritation at Arnold's gesture, lets him. He's rewarded by a chuckle from Arnold that makes happiness flow through him in a warm wave.

"Always my hair," Kevin notes.

"It reminds me of my Chewie plushie," Arnold says, his gaze going far away. Kevin has no idea what that means, but he isn't about to interrupt. "Comforting, you know? Kind of like Nabulungi's hair—"

The warm wave becomes ice cold. Arnold keeps talking, then stops, looking worried. It's only then that Kevin realizes that his feelings are visible on his face.

"Sorry, pal," Arnold says, dropping his arms. Kevin drops his too, still struggling against the harsh spike of anger in his chest. "Guess I talk about her way too much, huh?"

"It's not too much," Kevin assures him. At Arnold's skeptical look, Kevin says, "You're in love. You're allowed."

"I don't want to bug you. If you start getting annoyed, lemme know, okay?"

"Well, when I fall in love and start talking about a girl the same way, I hope you return the favour."

Kevin notices but ignores the split-second pause before Arnold's enthusiastic, "It's a deal!"


	7. Chapter 7

Arnold runs into Brian Church on the way to the outhouse the next morning.

"H—Hi, Elder Church."

The sky is just light enough that Arnold can make out Brian's return nod—and the tightening of his jaw muscles. Brian keeps walking without another word.

Thoughts of the outhouse forgotten, Arnold says, "Wait. Please?"

Brian stops, with a heavy sigh that makes Arnold's stomach drain to his toes. "Yes?"

_Man up, Arnold. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. _"I just wanted to say that...I know, with your family and everything, this past week must've been so difficult for you. I totally get that you want to do something to get all the badness to stop. It's natural." Brian looks utterly unimpressed, which makes Arnold add, "Heck, I've felt the same way. When the prequels came out...that was a really dark time for me."

That finally gets a response from Brian: a surprised blink. "You mean the _Star Wars_ prequels, don't you?"

"Um, well, yeah." Arnold realizes that he's had much worse things happen to him lately: Sister Damisi's husband getting shot in front of him; Kevin telling him they weren't friends and abandoning him; the villagers' disastrous play for the mission president. Those probably would've been better examples.

Brian certainly seems to think so. He shakes his head, snorting in disgust, and turns back to the outhouse.

Arnold shouts after him, "I—I just think what Elder Hatimbi said about emailing your bishop is the best thing to do!" Brian doesn't even glance back. Heat floods Arnold's face. _This is what I get for talking without Kevin or Nabulungi with me!_

What's worse, they both have to get in line for the outdoor showers. It's horribly awkward. Once he's inside rinsing himself off, Arnold stumbles and knocks over the large bucket of soapy water, to the dismayed groan of Elders Davis and Neeley behind him. Now they'll go without a shower because another full bucket means going over the church's water ration for the week.

"Nice job breaking it, hero," says GLaDOS from _Portal _as Arnold apologizes profusely.

He knows he's not in the best frame of mind when he asks to speak to Nabulungi privately. But Nabulungi deserves to know that her fiancé couldn't fall asleep because his mind kept replaying Kevin's unexpected hug—with his imagination supplying details that _definitely_ hadn't been there in reality.

Nabulungi follows him to his and Kevin's room. They leave the door open. Grinning, Nabulungi glances between their two beds. "I think I know whose is whose." She sits down not on Kevin's perfectly-made bed, but Arnold's untucked, crumb-covered one.

"I am _so_ excited about the orphanage today," she says. "All my life, I lived from day to day. I always hoped for something better, but I never thought it would actually happen! Now, it has—and I can share my good fortune with children who have less than even I. Today is a blessed day!"

_Maybe not_, Arnold thinks, but he can't help but grin as he sits down beside her. Their hands naturally seek each other out, like two halves being made whole.

"I have been thinking, Elder Cunningham, that we should tell others our good news. Who knows? Perhaps it will make Elder Church stay."

Arnold is pretty sure it won't, but he plays along. "Sure. We could announce it over breakfast or something."

Nabulungi frowns, puzzled. "Should we not tell Baba, your parents, and Elders Price and McKinley first?"

"Yes! Great idea!" She must think he's such an idiot. Then she smiles and squeezes his hand, and Arnold thinks that, for some reason, she doesn't.

"I have been working on an email to your mother and father since last night," Nabulungi says, a worried frown between her eyebrows. "It is not going well. I prayed to God for the words. He...did not give them to me, but I feel much more peaceful about it now than I did last night."

"I hadn't even thought that far ahead," Arnold admits. She's so good at this social thing! Yet another reason he needs her in his life. "I'm sure Mom'll love it. And Dad," he lies quickly.

She knows he's lying—she's heard him worry about Dad's only email often enough. But she doesn't call him on it. Instead, she looks around his and Kevin's room. "I hope it will not be too hard to say goodbye to the mission."

"Um...why would I say goodbye?"

"We would have to leave once we were married. I am a woman; I cannot stay in here. Right?"

Arnold grins. "I am the prophet, you know. I'm sure the guys will be cool with it."

"There is a spare room for us?"

His grin deflates. "Not really...Where did you think we'd live?"

"With Baba. Around here, married couples are expected to make their own shack, but we do not have enough tin for a roof yet." She glances around the room, then chuckles. "I would not make you leave a building with electricity and a nearby pump for a mud hut with a tin roof."

How is all of this going to work? "Let's see...I guess Elder Price could bunk in one of the other rooms—"

Nabulungi shakes her head, looking alarmed. "Oh, no, no! I could not ask Elder Price to give up his room. Maybe we should keep our living arrangements the same."

It's so like her to be so concerned with another's feelings. "Elder Price doesn't even like being my roommate," Arnold explains with a grin. "I'm a total slob and he's a total neat freak. Believe me, he'd love it if I asked him to leave."

Her alarm doesn't disappear, but just lessens to worry. "I am not convinced he would." She shakes her head again. "I do not want to come here and disrupt everything."

"Well, I'm definitely not living without you, Mrs. Cunningham."

Nabulungi's smile wipes any coherent thought from Arnold's mind. "Mrs. Cunningham. I suppose I must get used to calling you Arnold."

A weird Chewie-type sound escapes his mouth. He could listen to her say his name all day. _But_, he remembers, sighing, _we have other things to talk about_. Sweat dribbles from his armpits.

"So, we'll tell your dad, Elder Price and Elder McKinley today, okay? Maybe email my parents in a day or two or something." Get the easy stuff out of the way first.

"Sounds wonderful." Nabulungi kisses his cheek. Her face lingers near his, so he kisses her cheek. He glances at the open door with a heavy sigh and they break apart.

"Is that all you wanted to talk about?" Nabulungi asks.

Too many thoughts crowd Arnold's head. He can't speak. _Heavenly Father, I couldn't live with myself if I hurt her..._

"You're being _inappropriate_, son," his father says, as he said many years ago when Arnold talked a little too long about one of his male classmate's looks.

Then his dad vanishes, replaced by Tara from _Buffy_, who gives him a warm, kind smile. "No—don't listen to him. My family called me a demon because I was different, but my difference was actually my strength. Be strong, Arnold."

Captain Jack Harkness smiles indulgently. "You twenty-first century humans and your quaint categories. Come on—I'm bisexual and I'm awesome, aren't I?"

_Be like Captain Jack_, Arnold thinks.

Just as he's about to speak, though, Xander from _Buffy_ steps in. "_Buuuut _maybe don't tell her about Kevin. You don't have to tell your fiancée everything. Uh, even though when the Scoobies kept secrets, everything went to Hellmouth in a handbasket... Wait, can I try again?"

"Sometimes," growls Christian Bale Batman, "you have to keep secrets from the one you love to keep the Joker from killing her."

"Exactly what I was gonna say," says Xander. He glances at Batman. "Jeez, ever heard of a lozenge?"

A glowing Jesus with nails in his hands and feet says, "And sometimes, you gotta tell the truth, man. Lying about Kevin is totally uncool, Arnold, and you know it."

_Right! Thanks, Jesus._

"You'll lose her," says his father, so disappointed in his son.

"Arnold...?" A real voice. A real hand on his cheek, real black eyes gazing into his own.

"Um, there is something else, actually..." Nabulungi looks at him, innocent and expectant. Arnold gulps. "So, Elder Price is my best friend. He's, uh, always going to be a part of my life, I hope."

She smiles. "I hope so, too. You two are practically brothers."

"I love you, but I also love Elder Price," he blurts out. She smiles reassuringly, about to say something like, _You just said that_, which means he's not doing his job right. "Not in the same way...exactly, but, um, sometimes—just _sometimes_—more similar than...not-similar."

She still doesn't look like she gets it. "Oh?"

He glances away. "Um. He's...handsome." He goes through the motions of swallowing, though his mouth is bone-dry. "I'm...uh, bisexual, kinda." A bead of sweat flows down his forehead. He wipes it away with even-sweatier fingers, leaving four slimy trails across his skin. "Well, not kinda," he admits miserably.

Nabulungi chuckles. The sound is so unexpected that Arnold flinches. "Oh, is that all?"

Arnold tries to figure out what she just said. "Huh?"

She's smiling. Why? To keep herself from crying? "Do you think I never noticed how much you touch him?"

"I'm like that with everybody," Arnold mumbles, embarrassed. "It's such a bad habit..."

"But you're like that more with Elder Price, who is going to be part of your life for two more years at least." Still smiling, she leans in and briefly kisses his lips. "I knew that when I fell in love with you. If it bothered me, I would have kept my feelings quiet."

"But it should bother you!" Arnold blurts out. "Love is...wanting someone totally. All of them." Maybe it doesn't bother her because she's not in love with him...

"For some people." Is this some Ugandan cultural barrier he didn't know about? His confusion must show on his face, for, watching him, Nabulungi becomes thoughtful. "Before you and Elder Price arrived, my future was simple. I would get circumcised, marry a boy from the next village, get AIDS, and I would raise child after child and hope one of them would outlive me. Now..." she shakes her head, as if she can't believe it. "My future is so _big_. It scares me, sometimes. But it is wonderful, of course," she adds quickly. "And most wonderful of all is that I have your love.

"So when you say I should feel jealousy because being close to a man makes you happy...I cannot." She shrugs and spreads her hands in a gesture of helplessness. "I am strange, I know, but I want you to be happy in whatever way makes you happy."

Arnold opens his mouth and closes it a few times. _Um, I guess, thanks for answering my prayer, God?_ "Guess you do things differently here in Uganda 'cuz of polygamy and all," he mutters, trying to sort out his reaction.

Nabulungi blinks, surprised. She thinks for a moment, then says, "I had forgotten polygamy was legal. The men of this village have been too poor to take more than one wife for generations. And," there's a mischievous glint in her eyes as she leans in and whispers, "polygamy hardly extends to _boooooyfrieeeends_."

A loud bark of laughter bursts from Arnold. Her teasing leeches some of the awkwardness surrounding his feelings for Kevin. He had never thought that was possible until this minute.

"He's not," he adds, not ashamed or panicked, just wanting to clarify. "He won't be." He watches her intently as he says, "Except for once in a while in my head. If that's okay...?"

"Fine by me," she says, as casually as if they're discussing what to have for dinner tonight. "Just love me, too." She chuckles, weirdly breathless. "At least talk to me if you get the urge to run off with Elder Price and leave me alone."

Arnold's next bout of laughter can probably be heard throughout the mission. "Oh, man! Hah! Don't worry about that. Elder Price is...well, definitely not gay."

Now Arnold gets what he was expecting: a worried frown, an awkward pause. His heart stops. "And you would not even if he _were _gay, right?"

She was serious. She's actually worried about that. His heart starts up again, now thudding louder than a car alarm, while he scrambles for a reply.

"It's okay," _Firefly_'s Simon Tam says to Arnold, "I accidentally told my girlfriend I was only dating her because the only other women in my life were married or my sister. You can still recover!"

"Oh—oh, jeez, of course not, Nabulungi! What we have is true, Westley-and-Buttercup kind of love!"

A relieved sigh bursts from her. "Good! Good." She chuckles awkwardly, and he squeezes her hand.

His head is spinning. Part of him wants to ask, _When did I give myself away?_ and, _Do you think anyone else knows about me?_ but he isn't sure he can bear the answer.

"Are you _sure_ Elder Price is not gay?" Nabulungi asks, dragging him out of his thoughts. "I just assumed that what happened between him and the General scared him off of admitting it."

Arnold almost spills the beans, but stops himself. Kevin wouldn't appreciate that. "Haven't seen lots of hints from him, honestly. He's always been a guy who's dedicated to the mission."

Nabulungi looks disappointed. "Sister Kimbay thinks he dumped her because he must be gay or worried about AIDS."

Arnold winces. "I'm a hundred percent sure that Elder Price wasn't even thinking about AIDS. I mean, he suggested that verse where God says AIDS isn't passed through kissing." Arnold's contribution had been having God tell this to Joseph Smith and his wife, Princess Leia. Kevin hadn't been very happy about that. "I know he feels really bad about what went down between him and Sister Kimbay. Could you tell her that?"

"Mm, perhaps it will go better if he tells her that." She shrugs. "Well, whatever Elder Price is, I hope that he—"

Right on the heels of her words, Kevin appears in the doorway, his expression alarmingly aloof. Nabulungi's mouth snaps shut.

"Hey, guys. The bus is practically here."

_OH NO HE HEARD US HE KNOWS ABOUT THE CRUSH OH MY GOD—_

_Wait, wait, no, calm down. He must've just arrived. If he heard anything, he just heard...me and Nabulungi gossiping about whether he's gay or not. Oh. Great._

"THANKS, BUDDY!" At Kevin's rolled eyes, Arnold cringes. Too loud, again. He's always going to be the klutz who spilled the shower water, the moron who compared domestic abuse to the _Star Wars_ prequels, the pervert who thought _inappropriate_ things about a guy who gave him a friendly hug...

Then, Nabulungi squeezes his hand. Arnold's mental wails become mumbles. They don't matter as much anymore: not when he has her. He moves in to kiss her—Kevin huffs in annoyance—but she pulls back.

"Thank you, Elder Price," she says, leading Arnold out of their room. Kevin takes his position on Arnold's right as they break into a trot to make sure they catch the bus.

He passes Jesus and Captain Jack Harkness, who give him a thumbs up. Arnold mouths 'Thank you' to both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

"And ten divided by two is..."

"Five!" seven-year-old Kasa says, writing it down. Arnold squashes the urge to pat her shoulder. The two-hour orientation the Church of Arnold had when they arrived was very clear about not initiating touching. It's something he'll have to work on.

Most of the other Elders are outside playing soccer or basketball with the kids; it's only him and a few others inside the classroom, with its threadbare carpeted play area and toy chest on one side and its rusty metal desks and mismatched chairs throughout. Kasa's left leg, missing from the knee down, keeps her from playing sports. Arnold was told not to ask about any injuries he sees; another struggle for him.

"Wow, good job! Okay, looks like we're done our math for the day." The next booklet on his list is the English language.

She grabs the book eagerly from his hands.

"Woah, you like English, huh?"

"Yeah. For my work when I grow big."

"Oh? What do you want to do when you grow up?"

"Hooker," she says as she opens the book, flipping to a page without her writing.

"Um. Didn't catch that?"

"Hooooooookeeeeeer," she says slowly. Glancing up, she giggles at the expression on his face. "Make money!"

Kasa giggles again. Arnold gulps and smiles. She's just joking. Heavenly Father, please let her just be joking.

But just in case she isn't..."You know, you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up. Sometimes, what you end up being will surprise you! Like with Luke Skywalker, on a faraway planet called Tatoo—"

"Mr. Cunningham?" says Amikaa, who's supervising the volunteers. "Why don't you help Kasa with her booklet?"

"Er, right. Sorry." Another rule: not even a hint of proselytizing in their volunteer efforts, which, unfortunately for Arnold, means no talking about sci-fi.

When Amikaa moves on to the next group, Kasa mutters, "What's a planet? And why does it have a tattoo?"

Very quietly, Arnold explains.

The Church is done by 5:30. The organizers of the orphanage seem generally pleased with the church: there's much hand-shaking and a, "We look forward to next Monday," from Amikaa.

"So do we," says Mafala, Kevin grinning at his side, the church's unofficial PR guys. As they walk to the bus-stop, everybody has something to say.

"They're so...normal," Arnold catches Elder Davis saying.

"Much nicer than the orphanage I grew up in," says Sister Damisi.

Elder Church says, "Some of those kids were _child soldiers_. Can you _imagine_?"

"Did you see that boy in the corner of our reading group? He would not talk, not a sound, poor child!"

"My supervisor had bite marks on her arms..."

"I dunno, they seemed pretty happy to me."

"These kids are so lucky," Nabulungi says. Arnold turns to her, blinking. "I had to learn to read from pop bottles and food labels. They actually get taught by real English speakers!"

"No picking up roadkill for their dinners," Mafala says approvingly. "They run a good outfit here."

Arnold and Kevin share a _We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto_ look, which they still share now and then.

"Katie—my little sister—has a Barbie for every kid here," Kevin says, shaking his head. "I don't think she even plays with them anymore. I'll see if she can donate a few." He frowns. "And why are the dolls they have white? I mean, there've gotta be some black Barbies, right?" He looks at Arnold, who can only shrug.

"Maybe," Arnold says, "we need a verse about Harry Potter in the Book of Arnold. How you can always be protected by your parents' love, even if you don't have your parents."

Nabulungi kisses his cheek. "I love that." He grins. He'll think up something later tonight. "I feel it about my mother very often."

"As long as this verse doesn't lead to kids practicing witchcraft," Kevin says.

Arnold laughs. At the annoyed look on Kevin's face, Arnold realizes he was serious. "Um. Don't worry, pal. It won't."

Kevin makes a non-commital noise. Arnold makes a mental note to not just work on the latest Harry Potter verse, but also work on his apology to Kevin for talking about him behind his back.

"You were very good with the children, Elder Price," Nabulungi says.

"Thanks," is Kevin's curt reply. After a moment, he adds, "So were you, Sister Hatimbi."

"Well," she pauses, glances at her father, then says, "I have had some experience." Mafala inhales suddenly and looks at her in surprise.

"Really?" Arnold asks.

"Yes." She grabs his hand, squeezing it gently as she looks off into the blue and gold horizon. "I had two younger brothers. One died when he was just a baby, the other died in a firefight in our village."

Arnold catches Mafala glancing at General Butt-Fucking Naked. A terrible suspicion smoulders in his mind. "It wasn't—I mean, the General didn't—"

Nabulungi watches her father with concern as Mafala shrugs. When he says nothing, she explains, "There have been many men with guns in our village. We never learned who it was that night. Either way, the General is our brother in Christ. That is all that is important now."

"Oh," Arnold says, feeling humbled and honoured. "Thank you for sharing this," he tells Nabulungi.

"Baba, you and I and Elder Cunningham should go see Mother and the boys. We have not for a long time."

Even before she finishes speaking, Mafala is shaking his head. "Because it is bad luck to visit graves. It disturbs the ghosts."

Nabulungi squeezes Arnold's hand again, as if gathering strength. Though her, "The Book of Arnold does not say so," is said breezily, her gaze never leaves Mafala.

Arnold makes a mental note to make sure, in fact, that the Book says that visiting graves is perfectly healthy.

Mafala snorts with bitter amusement. "Next time I read it, visiting the dead will be the eleventh commandment. Right, Elder Cunningham?"

"Uh..." Maybe letting Mafala in on the book's creative process wasn't a good thing. "God doesn't really work on a schedule like that...Maybe you and I should just go alone, Nabulungi?"

"I suppose," she mutters, disappointed. Then she gives a small smile. "We could go next p-day. I could make us some lunch—"

Mafala laughs. "That is one way to get him to visit a grave!" He seems back to his genial self.

"Ba_ba_!" Nabulungi grumbles good-naturedly. "He does not like my cooking."

"Nobody does! She is terrible. I despair of ever finding a husband who will take her!"

This is it: the perfect set up. He shares a look with Nabulungi, who obviously feels the same way. The joy swelling in his chest makes it hard to speak.

"Oh, no need to worry about that, Mr. Hatimbi."

Nabulungi giggles, kissing his cheek.

"Wait," says Kevin, "did you just say...?"

It takes Mafala a moment to react. He stops walking, then turns to look at Arnold and his daughter, obviously stunned. He's still stunned a moment later when Nabulungi explains, "We have not set the date yet, but we know it will be soon. Arnold has lived here for three months, so he can legally marry me."

Arnold nods to the rest of the church passing them. "Everyone's invited to the ceremony." He beams at Kevin. "And you'll be my best man, obviously!"

Kevin doesn't seem aware of how big an honour this is. "Of course," he mutters. No smile yet.

Mafala is shaking his head as if to clear it. Nabulungi, with a beautiful laugh, wraps her arms around her father's waist. "Someone else will have to put up with charred goat meat, Baba!" she teases.

Mafala doesn't hug her back. He frowns at his daughter, then at Arnold. "No."

Arnold replays that word a few times, searching it for some hidden meaning, because it can't mean what it sounds like—it just can't.

"Baba?" Nabulungi asks, confused.

"No. I forbid it."

That seems pretty clear. But it makes no sense. Mafala_ likes_ Arnold, doesn't he? "S—sir?"

"Baba?" Nabulungi's arms fall to her sides.

"Daughter," Mafala puts a hand on her shoulder, his tone concerned, "you are _too young_ for this."

"I am eighteen." Nabulungi is speaking slowly, overenunciating her words, as if concerned that he's not hearing them. "Two of my friends were married at fourteen."

"Ew, really?" Arnold blurts out.

She ignores him. "Baba," she smiles tremulously, "please... I love Elder Cunningham. He loves me. We want to pledge to live our lives together. It is what God wills."

Mafala chuckles. "Oh, of course! Yes, I am sure God has a great interest in seeing you in that white boy's bed."

_That white boy...? Did he just call me that?_

"Baba..." Nabulungi says reproachfully.

"I LOVE NETANYAHU, ELDER HATIMBI!" Many of the church glance over their shoulders at Arnold; a few stop and stare. "I mean, Nanu Nanu—um, Niffler—Nintendo Wii—" Mafala looks at him like he just started squealing like a pig. Arnold knows then that he must have fallen asleep, because he's trapped in a nightmare and he'd really, really like to wake up now.

_Kevin. _Arnold casts him a pleading glance. Kevins nods to him and steps in close, putting his hand on Arnold's shoulder. His touch loosens the vice crushing Arnold's chest: Arnold gasps for air.

"He loves your daughter very much, Elder," Kevin says quietly. Arnold waits for him to make a speech like the one that made the other Elders agree to stay in Uganda even though the Mormon Church had shut them down.

Kevin says nothing. He and Mafala share an intense stare for a moment. Then Mafala looks between his daughter and Arnold, his expression thoughtful. Obviously, Kev isn't saying anything because he doesn't need to. Now Mafala gets it.

Mafala sighs. "Believe it or not, it does hurt me to say these things. But I cannot let you get married."

Their bus is coming down the road. Mafala turns and heads toward the stop.

"Baba," Nabulungi whispers, her voice trembling. Arnold tries to take her hand, but she hurries after her father.

Arnold starts to follow; Kevin's hand on his chest stops him. "Some father-daughter time might help him see the light."

"Yeah," Arnold says, but he isn't sure he believes Kevin. He isn't sure what to believe anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

"I thought he liked me," Arnold says for the hundredth time that night. Arnold threw himself down on his bed the second they got to the mission. He hasn't stood up yet, not even for dinner. The fried plantains Kevin brought him remain untouched.

Kevin bites back an annoyed sigh. What he wouldn't give for some coffee... "He likes you, Elder Cunningham. But Sister Hatimbi is his only daughter. It's natural he'd be protective of her. Give him some time to adjust."

Kevin is lying through his teeth. He was at dinner tonight. He saw Nabulungi, her red eyes downcast. Mafala set food in front of her, spoke softly and kindly to her, but when she raised her eyes to him and grabbed his hand in supplication, he shook his head. She ate the rest of her dinner staring at her plate, trying to surreptitiously wipe away tears. It was terrible to watch—seeing the pain on Mafala's face, Kevin knew it was terrible to be a part of, as well—but Mafala is a wise man. He's only looking after his daughter.

Just like Kevin is only looking after Arnold.

He and Mafala are allies. They shared a look earlier today, and it was like they read each other's minds: this wedding can't happen. So they'll do whatever it takes.

Kevin finds himself thinking about his own father. Dad grounded Jack for fourteen days as punishment for eating a maple-gazed doughnut. "It's for your own good, son," he said. "I'm only doing this because I love you." Sometimes, love has to hurt.

The memory of Dad and Jack brings up guilt, as it always does, since it should have been Kevin receiving that punishment. Kevin fights to keep his guilt at bay. Memories of his hell dreams—quick, persistent flashes—aren't helping him with Arnold's situation.

"I just..." Arnold murmurs. "I don't want Dad to be mad at me."

Kevin glances at him. "You mean her dad, right?"

"Well, duh!" He sniffles.

"He's probably just worried how young you both are," says Kevin, visions of skeletons and doughnuts dancing in his mind's eye. _Stop it, brain. _"About how you've only been dating two months—heck, you've only known her for three and a half."

Arnold leans toward him, lifting up his glasses to wipe at his eyes. "I know it's fast—but sometimes love happens that way! And I love her so much! What'm I going to do, not marry her? I thought he'd be happy!"

"Heck, buddy, _I'm _happy." Kevin sits down beside Arnold, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder._"I'm only doing this because I love you." _"But Elder Hatimbi, well... Maybe he's just a bit concerned about how _emotionally_ ready you both are. She's your first girlfriend, right? And I think you mentioned that you're her first boyfriend?"

"That shouldn't matter." Arnold grabs a Kleenex from his pocket and blows into it. "When you find the right person, you just...know. And it isn't because of what he said, either!" His cheeks turn pink. "About...about me only wanting her in my..."

"Of course not." He fights down a shudder at the thought of her and Arnold together. Rob McKinley's red feather boa flashes before his eyes. "You haven't even mentioned how hot she is lately."

Arnold is quiet. He knows this is a lie. Kevin can almost see the gears turning—maybe her looks do play a larger role in their decision than Arnold wants to believe?

Something Mafala said does bother Kevin, but for another reason entirely: he doesn't like the villagers thinking that Arnold is using his religion for his own ends. But that's a thought for another time. Right now he has to focus.

Kevin can taste maple glaze on his tongue when the next thought strikes. "Maybe he's just worried that she cares more that you're _the prophet_ Arnold Cunningham than that you're Arnold Cunningham."

Arnold snorts. "Well, that's impossible. She knows me too well."

"Of course she does," Kevin says quickly. _Three, two, one..._

Arnold glances away, two lines appearing between his eyebrows. His low self-esteem will take that thought and run with it. And Kevin will be there to pick up the pieces, because Arnold is his best friend.

"I know what you're doing, Elder Price."

Icy needles jab into Kevin's skin. "Oh?"

"You're helping me face Elder Hatimbi tomorrow. And...and my dad. Like a _Rocky_ training montage." Kevin smiles—finally, a reference he gets. "Thanks, buddy."

Satan's guitar solo screams through his mind. "No problem, pal."


	10. Chapter 10

Tomorrow at breakfast, Mafala, after minutes of being frantically whispered to by Nabulungi, finally reaches his breaking point.

"I am tired of discussing this!"

"_I_ am _not_!" Nabulungi shouts back. From the shock on both of their faces, Nabulungi has rarely, if ever, raised her voice to her father. Arnold hurries to Nabulungi's side; Kevin approaches more liesurely.

Nabulungi glances about, sees most of her friends and fellow villagers watching and muttering among themselves, and falls silent.

"Child," says Sister Damisi, "what is this about?"

Her hand finds Arnold's. "It is nothing," she says shyly. "I am sorry to disturb every—"

"Oh, enough bullshit," says Gotswana. "What is wrong?"

Nabulungi shares a look with Arnold, who gulps but, slowly, nods. She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Ah, Baba will not let me and Elder Cunningham get married."

Some villagers shake their heads; a few shrug and turn back to their meals. Kevin's heart soars. Maybe if more people let them know how wrong they are, she and Arnold will see the light.

"I just...I really love her," Arnold says. Kevin heard every possible variation on that theme last night and just manages not to roll his eyes.

"Mafala," says Sister Damisi, "stop being such an asshole."

Mafala stares at her. "_What_?"

"Let the child be happy! Heavenly Father knows, we have all known our share of sadness." Gotswana says, "Amen!", and many other villagers nod.

Mafala gestures to Nabulungi, who frowns at him, and Arnold, who flinches. "Look at them! Too young, from two different worlds, and too in love to _think_. Prophet," he nods to Arnold, "how will you bring my daughter to America?"

_Woah_, thinks Kevin, _I didn't even _think_ of that one._

Arnold blinks. "Um. I've got money saved up!"

"Enough for a plane ticket to the other side of the world?" _Oh, he's good. _

"Yes!" _Liar._

"And Nabulungi," Mafala says, "tell me what you will do when you get there. How you will live?" _Yes! Score one for Mafala!_

Nabulungi shrugs. "It is _America_, Baba. There are always jobs."

"Jobs in a recession? And will those jobs go to white girls, or the black girl fresh out of the jungle? That is what you will be in America." _Well, jeez, that's pretty mean... But whatever works._

Nabulungi sets her chin. "Let them. Elder Cunningham—Arnold—does not see me that way, and that is all I need to know. Even the lowest job in America is still better than starving here." _Darn, that's a good point._

"And our president's black!" Arnold adds. "We don't have racism anymore!"

Mafala snorts, and Kevin has to admit that maybe white people don't get to make that call.

Mutumbo speaks up. "Pretty fucking arrogant, Mafala, to think you know how the future will go. As chapter 12 verse 19 of the book says, 'The good things do not always soften the bad things, but the bad things do not necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.' Jesus Christ said this to Amy Pond, mother of the Great River, and I believe it. Will you say your daughter cannot have this good thing because bad things _may_ happen?"

Gotswana claps and some of the villagers shout, "Praise Christ!" and "LL&P!"

_But look at them! _Kevin opens his mouth to set them straight. _They probably won't even last our mission! It's just...lust! She doesn't even really understand him, not the way I do!_

He shuts his mouth. Kevin wills his strength into Mafala, who looks like he's doubting himself. Then he shakes his head and glowers at everyone who stands against him.

"Oh, fuck off to hell, all of you. She is not your daughter, she is _mine_, and that means she has to respect my wishes."

"I do, Baba!" She wipes at her eyes. "I know you only say these things because you love me so much. And I love you!" She drops Arnold's hand and approaches her father. "I always will, even if I love Elder Cunningham."

Mafala softens, and Kevin remembers that his daughter is all he has left in this world. Kevin's heart slams against his chest. _Come on, be strong..._

Nabulungi reaches out to him, grabbing his hand. "Baba, please, I beg you to give us your blessing."

_No!_

Mafala frowns slightly, then sighs. "We will talk about this later tonight, my dove."

"Oh, come on!" Gotswana complains, but Mafala ignores the harangues of the villagers and gets back in line for breakfast.

"LL&P, Nabulungi," says Sister Damisi, kissing her forehead.

"We will pray for you," says Effu Kimbay. She doesn't even glance at Kevin, though he's standing not too far from Nabulungi. Kevin opens his mouth to say something to her, but can't think of anything before she leaves to take her seat.

When only Arnold and Kevin are nearby, Nabulungi mutters, "If he says no, we will take one of the General's jeeps and go to Kampala ourselves. Elder Price and Gotswana will be our witnesses."

Kevin's skin prickles. "Um, wouldn't that be stealing from the General?" His ass cheeks clench. He can just imagine the General's punishment for stealing...

"The jeeps are for the church, he said so himself." Kevin's breath gusts out of him. _Right—the General's one of us now_. "Not," she adds quickly, "that you have to come if it would make you uncomfortable."

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to Plan B."

Rob and Eric are making their way through the dining hall toward their group. From the way Rob is smiling, Kevin isn't optimistic that their district leader is going to shut this bad idea down.

"Well!" Rob says. "Congratulations, both of you!"

"We meant to tell you as well," Nabulungi says apologetically. "Only...we were distracted."

Rob offers to rearrange companions for today if that would make her feel easier; Nabulungi reluctantly declines. As they talk, Kevin notes the reactions of the other ex-Mormons. Elder Church is shaking his head and speaking intently to Elder Neeley; Elders Davis and Michaels are looking at their group uneasily. It's a lot to take. Kevin sympathizes.

Kevin throws himself too much into the day's proselytizing. He doesn't let people ask questions, breaking one of the first rules he learned at the missionary training centre, and he doesn't listen—the death-knell of any missionary.

"Tomorrow is a latter day," Arnold mumbles, with the day not even half-over.

"Yeah."

As they always do at noon, they take a break, gulping down bottled water and eating energy bars. The street is deserted except for stray dogs sleeping in the shade of buildings. The nearest stray dog is a black, jackal-sized creature with white paws and the biggest, saddest brown eyes Kevin has ever seen. It has no swollen growths or runny eyes or open wounds like some of the other dogs. Kevin crouches down and pours some water into his cupped hand, offering it to the little guy.

"She can't love the prophet and not me," Arnold says out of the blue. "I mean, she knows we didn't get eaten by lions and come back to life."

Kevin feels more alert than he has all day. "You have to admit, your story isn't the average 'boy-meets-girl' story. I mean, you gave her hope, faith, a new life. That's a pretty powerful bond. Can it survive a relationship—a marriage? It's probably what Elder Hatimbi is thinking." To the dog, he croons, "_Heeeere _boy, hey boy..."

The dog sniffs at him but doesn't move as Arnold says, "But maybe it's a good kind of powerful? I mean, look how she stood up for us in front of her dad earlier! She's such a Gryffindor."

"What's that?" The water is spilling from his hand. He pours more in. "Hey, pup. You want some water?" The dog's tail thumps.

"One of the Houses from Harry Potter—I've been thinking about that orphan verse." Arnold sounds relaxed and excited as he continues, which makes Kevin smile. "They're the house of the brave. I think you're a Slytherin. They're driven and ambitious. And that's you all over! Only you're ambitious for Jesus, not worldly stuff. Sure, in the books, Slytherins are _kind of_ evil—and yeah, their symbol _is_ a snake—but you'd be one of the good ones. If you were a British wizard."

"Nice fresh water, little guy, come _ooooon_... And, gee, thanks for thinking I'm not _evil_..."

Arnold pats his shoulder in commiseration. "I'm a Hufflepuff! They get put down a bit in the books, too. The books are so pro-Gryffindor it gets a little silly at times."

The dog puts its head down, unenticed. "Maybe I'll bring a bowl next time," Kevin decides, pulling a Kleenex from his pocket and drying off his wet hand. Instinctively, he checks their placement list. It's blank. They should have placements. Heck, they should've had two or three follow-up sessions by now. He runs his hands through his hair with a sigh.

Arnold takes a long sip of bottled water. "Oh, hey, listen, about the conversation you might've heard between me and Nabulungi the other day..."

Kevin feels a sudden tightening in the skin over his temples. "Mmhm?" How is the church doing in Yunna anyway?

"It really wasn't right, to gossip about you like that, and I'm sorry."

Kevin manages a brief smile. "Thanks." Mafala and Nabulungi must be having a follow-up with their placement... Rob and Eric mentioned they had a follow-up today, the General was particularly proud of his two placements yesterday, his first ever...

"I didn't, you know, tell her anything. About you."

Kevin keeps calculating how the church is doing. Anything to avoid the nasty little thought hissing, S_exless freak._ "Ohhhh-kay, pal, I think we've had enough of a break. We're set to be dead last when it comes to converts and," he thumps Arnold's shoulder, "_Kevin Price_ and the prophet of the world's newest, hottest religion do _not_ come in dead last!"

Arnold puts his half-eaten energy bar into his backpack with a sigh, muttering something that sounds like, "So Slytherin."

They actually do get a placement after this, from a very unexpected source: the cashier at the Internet café.

As they pay for their bottled water, the young man in an old Guns N Roses T-shirt says, "Okay, I have to ask: what on earth do you guys actually _do_?"

The question is so unexpected that Kevin loses a few seconds as he switches gears. "We're spreading the word of the Book of Arnold."

"You're selling a book?"

"Not selling—it's free!"

The young man looks amused. "Can't be that good if it's free."

"I think you'll find a few of your neighbours in Kigali who say otherwise."

"Hah! Kigali people know how to read?"

"YES THEY DO—" Arnold snaps. Kevin steps neatly between the cashier and him. This isn't the first time he's had to do this; Kigali seems synonymous with "hick" in Yunna. Some Yunna-ites seem surprised to hear that the village is still around; they just assume that General Butt-Fucking Naked or some other warlord wiped them out years ago.

"I'd love to give you a little taste of what they're reading about, if you've got the time."

The cashier glances around. His only other customers are Brian Church and Elder Neeley; Brian is pacing, while Neeley sits in front of a computer, drumming his fingers on the keyboard anxiously. Just as Kevin feels like he should go talk to the two, the cashier says, "Eh, I'm not going anywhere. Why not?"

He gets the speech. He doesn't ask any questions, but when Arnold offers him a book, he accepts. Kevin is surprised when he agrees to have a follow-up session with them next week at the same time, though his reasoning becomes clear when he says, "Sure, it's pretty dead here then." Grinning, Kevin marks his name—Zulu Abeni—and the time of his appointment on their placement sheet.

With good news comes bad: Brian Church and Elder Neeley line up behind them to pay what they owe the café, and neither of them look happy. Brian stares ahead blankly. Neeley is a surprise: the anxious, shy missionary looks flat out angry.

"What's up, Elders?" Kevin asks.

"Nothing," says Brian.

"It's not nothing!" snaps Elder Neeley. "Elder Church tried what you said, Elder Cunningham, and his bishop called him a liar!"

"Oh no," whispers Arnold. Kevin instinctively puts a hand on his shoulder.

"He called us a cult!" Elder Neeley rages. "Said we'd been brainwashed!"

"He said," Brian says heavily as he pays the cashier, "that we were sons of perdition."

Kevin sucks in his breath, suddenly very grateful for his bishop and his parents, who haven't expressed anything so harsh.

"And we are," Brian continues, gaze going to Kevin, once a shining example of the Mormon faith. "Aren't we?"

Kevin knows he should say no. He's not a Mormon anymore. But everything his rational mind knows is blocked by the bone-deep chill on hearing "sons of perdition." _We knew God and turned our backs—we denied the sun while it shone! For us the outer darkness and Satan's angels, not the kingdoms of glory!_

"No, we're not," says Arnold firmly, stepping toward Brian and Elder Neeley, snapping Kevin out of his paralysis. "That's the old doctrine. We're the new." His confidence falters. "I'm—I'm sorry about your bishop and what he said. If you want, we can all pray—"

Brian animates enough to laugh bitterly. Up close, Kevin can see just how tired he looks. "Sure. _That_'s been helpful. Hey, maybe Jesus will send Spider-Man to help us out." With a snort, he turns and walks to the door.

Elder Neeley grinds his teeth. "That stupid bishop!" He looks pleadingly at Arnold. "Can we post the video now?"

Arnold gulps. "Uh, I don't think that's a good—"

"Mason," snaps Brian.

Mason Neeley frowns in disappointment at Kevin and Arnold before he leaves.

"Tell you what," Zulu Abeni says, chuckling, "you can come by tomorrow if you explain what _that_ was all about."

Arnold wheels on the cashier. "GIVE ME THAT BOOK BACK!"

Startled, Zulu looks to Kevin, who's just as surprised. After a moment, he hands it over.

"IF you want to learn more about the Church of Arnold, THEN YOU CAN HAVE IT BACK, BUT NOT IF YOU JUST WANT SOME DRAMA!"

Arnold storms off.

"I'll talk to him," Kevin says, as smoothly as he can—which isn't very. Zulu looks wary. Kevin gives him a confident smile and follows Arnold out. As he leaves, he can just hear Zulu mutter, "Crazy Americans."

"Don't say it," Arnold grumbles when Kevin approaches. "The guy wasn't really interested and you know it."

Kevin sighs. "You're right. Doesn't mean he deserved to be shouted at, though, does it?" He realizes only after he's done speaking that he's using his older-brother-lecture voice.

"Yes it does. You heard what he said about Kigali!"

"If he tells two people about the crazy shouting Americans and they tell two people and they tell two people..."

Arnold sighs. "_Fine._" They return to the café and apologize. Zulu accepts, but doesn't ask them for another Book of Arnold. Reluctantly, Kevin crosses him off their list.

Kevin asks if he could buy a bowl from him. Zulu agrees, charging him more than Kevin suspects any plastic bowl is worth, and Kevin fills it with water and leaves it by the side of the street. Maybe when the day gets cooler, the little black dog will drink from it.

Kevin gets set straight when Arnold mentions on the jeep-ride back, "Elder Price tried to get this dog to drink water from his hand—"

Shock and concern or teasing from the villagers follows. "You might not want to use shaving cream, or we will think you are foaming at the mouth!" from Effu. "Oh, Elder Price, that _thing_ did not touch you, did it?" from Sister Damisi. "Why would you waste water? The dog is just going to get killed during the next cull anyway," from Mutumbo.

"Yeah," he admits readily, "it was pretty dumb of me." Inside, he feels hollow.

When they get back, Nabulungi immediately seeks out Arnold, her expression troubled. Rain is pouring down; she huddles under his umbrella.

"Persuading Baba is not going very well," she reports. "Now Baba says that I would be a good choice to help shepherd the church in Uganda when you leave. He makes too much of me, as he always has," she says fondly, though she can't even smile. Her gaze falls to the wet dirt at her feet.

"I should go help get dinner started," Kevin says quickly. He helps Elders Church and Davis peel yams and strip the meat off their lone, tiny chicken, which they all throw in a boiling pot with some rice.

Arnold pushes his food about his plate moodily. Rob McKinley and Eric Thomas have a conversation about the _Transformers_ movies, which, from the glances they send Arnold's way, they hope he'll join in on. They share a worried look when he doesn't.

Nabulungi sits quietly beside her father. Her friends talk to her and she gives brief, one-word answers. Mafala catches Kevin looking at him and gives him a tiny nod. Kevin has to work to keep a smile off his face. _Perfect. _He lets his thoughts turn to other matters that cropped up during the day, and leaves dinner early for a little religious study.

Arnold joins him an hour later, talking as he enters. Kevin, busy writing in his journal and reading the book in front of him, doesn't even look up. "I kept trying to get a sec alone with Nabulungi, but her dad was always there and...woah." Kevin finally looks up and realizes just how many books he has spread out on his bed.

"Wow, buddy." Arnold tries to smile but doesn't quite make it. "You haven't touched your journal in forever. Or...or the Book of Mormon. Um, how are things?"

Kevin grins reassuringly. "Great—they're great. I think I've pegged us in the terrestrial kingdom of heaven."

"Oh. Okay." Arnold's face scrunches up as if he's trying to remember.

Kevin flips to the right page in his journal. "Doctrines and Covenants 76:75—'These are they who are a honorable men of the earth, who were blinded by the craftiness of men.' And 76: 'These are they who receive of his glory, but not of his fulness.' We're serving God here, in our way. Pretty sure that's what the book means by 'honorable'. Sure, it's not the celestial kingdom—no new name and white stone for us—but it's not the outer darkness! Ha!"

Arnold looks completely lost. "And this is about...?"

"Elder Church! If he believes he's a son of perdition, of course he's going to leave us. But if I can show him we're part of the terrestrial kingdom, maybe he'll think twice. You've told me before, it's all in what kind of stories you believe. He believes the Book of Mormon's stories?" Kevin slaps his journal triumphantly, feeling very much _Elder_ Kevin Price, member of the Aaronic and Melchizedek priesthoods. "Even the Book of Mormon says we're still good!"

Arnold sags against the doorframe, hands covering his face as he moans.

Kevin is up from his bed and at his side so quickly he can't remember moving. "Buddy?" He licks at dry lips. "What's up?"

"I completely forgot," Arnold whispers, horrified. His voice rises in panic: "I FORGOT!" Kevin pulls him inside and shuts the door.

"I forgot," Arnold repeats in a moan. "All about Elder Church. Even you—with that cute dog—I could've helped you give it water! I _didn't_! I just...I can't think, I can't _think_..."

Kevin grips him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes, steady and soothing. "Elder Cunningham, we almost got a placement today because of your help."

"No, we _lost_ a placement because of me..."

"Because you realized he probably would have done more harm than good in our organization. That was smart. Clever."

His face is so miserable that Kevin expects a few tears or some sniffling, but there's none. After a moment, Arnold whispers, "She doesn't want to leave Uganda."

Kevin winces in sympathetic pain. _He's found something so terrible that he's beyond tears._

"I'm so sorry, Elder Cunningham. Are you...still engaged?"

"I—I guess?" He shrugs helplessly. "This is like the third _Matrix _movie all over again...I just can't figure it out!"

Kevin mentally sighs—Brian Church will have to wait until tomorrow. He gestures to Arnold's bed and they sit side by side. "Why don't we go over _exactly _what she said."

As Kevin suspected, it's not as bad as Arnold thinks. Nabulungi simply admitted that she worries about how Mafala will adjust to living without her. What if he succumbs to AIDS while she's in the U.S.? How would she feel if she couldn't see her father's last days? There's nothing in there about her staying in Uganda—not really.

When Arnold finishes recounting, Kevin sighs heavily.

"Pretty bad, isn't it?" Arnold says bleakly.

"I'm," Kevin pauses, "well, I'm...I'm sure you'll work through it." He gives Arnold a tiny smile, quickly extinguished by concern.

With a moan, Arnold slumps against him, resting his cheek on Kevin's shoulder. Arnold needs some form of physical contact on a good day; now, he must be desperate. Kevin slings his arm around Arnold's shoulders, squeezing softly, as if he might break apart.

After a deep sigh, Arnold murmurs, "I can't can't _can't_ thank you enough. Poor Elder Church. I don't deserve him in my church if I can't even do anything for him."

_We prayed for him just last night!_ Kevin wants to protest. _No one person can solve another person's problems—only God can, and sometimes He needs time to work. _Kevin just manages to keep his lips closed. Love has to hurt sometimes.

"And, yesterday...remember when Nabulungi asked Mafala to go to her mom's and brothers' grave, and he said no? I thought exactly what Mafala said I was thinking: that maybe I could put a verse about visiting graves into the Book of Arnold. The Book is bigger than just what I want. I know that but...I still wanted to.

"You're my Riker, Elder Price—my number one. I need you, and I'm gonna keep needing you until...whatever happens between me and Nabulungi works itself..."

There's the sound of a commotion from the living-room, and footsteps approaching the dormitories at a run.

"...out," Arnold finishes, either not hearing it or not caring enough to lift his head from Kevin's shoulder.

Their door suddenly bursts open. It's Nabulungi, sopping wet, panting and smiling. Kevin's heart sinks. Arnold leaps up—pushing Kevin away in his eagerness, which hurts—and kisses her on the mouth.

Kevin looks aside. Some of his books fell off his bed when he moved to help Arnold, so he starts picking them up, keeping his back to Arnold and Nabulungi.

"NBA—" Arnold clears his throat, "—uh, Nabulungi!—I love you so mu—"

"I hope so, or we are marrying under very false pretenses!"

"S—so, we're still...?"

"Why, of course!" She sounds shocked. "How could you think—?"

"I don't know, it was just—"

"It is my fault. I re-read the Book! It told me I was worrying too much about the future. 'Consider the lilies of the field. They do not labour or spin, but not even Galadriel was clothed so finely.'"

That verse—except for the _Lord of the Rings_ reference—was one of Kevin's contributions.

Kevin grips _The Biblical Roots of Mormonism_ so hard his knuckles turn white. Nabulungi keeps talking, but he can't hear her over the howl trapped inside him. He can't recall the last time he felt this angry. The closest he came was anger at God and the Mormon faith after the incident with the General. It feels like rage is in the air he breathes, in his bloodstream.

_I really need to start drinking coffee again. _On the heels of that thought comes,_ This isn't because of coffee. Something is wrong with me._

He hears Nabulungi's voice suddenly cut off. Glancing behind, he sees her gaze dart away from him, back to Arnold, and her voice picks up again. She had a clear view of his clenched hand.

_And now Nabulungi knows it, too._

"...if I can borrow a towel?" she finishes, looking sheepish, rubbing her upper arms.

"Let me," Kevin says. He avoids looking at Nabulungi as he passes her, afraid of what will show on his face.

From the living room, all the Elders are listening in, though only Rob is watching them, looking concerned. The rest look embarrassed, judging by their blushes and staring anywhere other than at Nabulungi. Kevin understands: it's a rather intimate conversation to have overheard.

He hands Nabulungi her towel and she quickly wraps it around herself. She turns to Rob and shyly says, "I also wanted to ask if I might stay on the mission's couch for the night. Baba and I fought, and...some time apart would be welcome."

"Say no more," says Rob. "Of course, you're welcome to stay." The other ex-Mormons look much more normal than they did a moment ago. They meet her gaze easily. _What's up with everyone...?_

Replaying the moment, Kevin realizes that Nabulungi is covered up now and she wasn't a moment ago. Wet fabric clinging to a girl's body is something a normal, red-blooded American guy notices. And Kevin didn't.

It bothers him, but after the day he's had, not very much.


	11. Chapter 11

The night Nabulungi sleeps on the mission couch, Kevin dreams he's walking through Yunna with a bowl of water, hoping to find a little black dog with white paws and big brown eyes. As he searches, something stalks: he glimpses eyes now and then, over a person's shoulder or lurking behind a store window. They're gleaming and green, like the eyes of a hyena caught in the beam of a flashlight. Kevin can't make himself run. He can't spill the water in his bowl or the dog will be thirsty.

Turning down an alleyway, the green eyes loom above him. They're set in the skull of a giant snake—the same snake Jafar became at the end of _Aladdin_. The word _Slytherin_ flashes through Kevin's thoughts. A little white paw sticks out of the snake's black and yellow coils.

Kevin drops the bowl. It shatters, water soaking into the dry ground. He dives for the bowl as the snake lunges, its spread hood blocking out the sun. Kevin grabs the dog—then he's wandering through Yunna, a dead dog in his arms and two halves of a bowl in his hands. He knows that if he can just find water, he can fix the bowl and bring the dog back to life. But the snake blocks him, baring fangs longer than his arm. Silent flies gather around the dog. There's a blood stain on the ground just like the one made by Sister Damisi's dead husband. The snake's pink, forked tongue stops an inch from Kevin's face—

Kevin wakes up thinking _Slytherin_. Arnold snores in the bed beside him. Kevin listens to his friend's steady breathing, his pulse and thoughts racing.

_Buddy_, he wants to say, _you're very wrong about me being a good Slytherin._

_Love has to hurt sometimes_, he reminds himself, but the mantra doesn't have the ring it had just a few hours ago. For the first time, Kevin asks, _Why?_

_Because she's wrong for him—it'll be a train-wreck—how can he know what he wants, he's such a child sometimes—_All answers, Kevin realizes, that make him horribly, disgustingly angry.

Kevin wishes God were speaking to him again. Then he'd know exactly what to think. All he are his own thoughts; they contradict and quarrel and never settle.

Never settle until they come to: _No one should hurt the people they love. _It's so simple. It's so obvious that he wants to deny it, but he can't quite do so. How did he get so twisted around that he thought otherwise?

He clasps his hands together and vows, _Heavenly Father, I will not let anger rule my heart anymore. _He tries, but doesn't get back to sleep, and watches the day lighten behind the curtain.

Kevin hears from Rob that Nabulungi had gotten up before him and set up the dining-room for breakfast; she's determined to repay the ex-Mormons for their kindness. She eats breakfast with them, and though she talks every now and then she mostly watches her father, who seems determined to ignore her.

In fact, Mafala partners with Gotswana, not his daughter. Nabulungi spends the ride to Yunna silent and pensive. She joins Kevin and Arnold, naturally. Kevin tries his best to stay out of her way—fortunately, Arnold is sociable enough for the both of them. Every so often he glances at Kevin expectantly, but whatever he's looking for, Kevin doesn't provide.

It also doesn't help that Arnold and Nabulungi make a great team. Nabulungi knows the people and can talk to them in their references, idioms and jokes. She has a keen sense of when to press and when to back off. Arnold starts out loud and excitable, but becomes less so as the day continues and he watches Nabulungi work. He rises to the challenge she unconsciously sets: by the afternoon, he spins his stories like an old pro, he listens avidly and questions softly, and his energy is as calm and focused as Kevin has ever seen it. They make the Book of Arnold shine, and get two placements.

Kevin fades into the background, probes his feelings, and tries to deal with them. Nabulungi goes back to her father's hut that night, but from their expressions when the villagers show up for breakfast the next morning, it hasn't helped. Again, she joins him and Arnold as they proselytize. They go to one of Nabulungi's follow-ups, and get another placement. Each success makes Kevin feel like he's sliding further into a deep, dark pit.

He tries to turn his feelings off. It doesn't work. Countless times, he forces a smile, tries not to scowl, makes himself chuckle at some stupid joke one of them makes. It's the same the next day; Mafala is not going to give. No placements for the three of them that day—"We cannot win them all," Nabulungi says philosophically.

"You've been pretty quiet lately," Arnold says to Kevin as they walk back to the jeeps.

Kevin really doesn't want to answer this question in front of Nabulungi. Of course, that wouldn't even occur to Arnold.

He shrugs. "Oh? I hadn't noticed."

Arnold and Nabulungi share a look when they think he's not watching.

After dinner, Kevin goes to see Rob McKinley. An ex-Mormon with jagged, chewed-on fingernails holds the door to his office half-open. Kevin assumes it's Brian Church—he and McKinley have been having a lot of discussions lately.

As Kevin turns around to give them some privacy, he hears Mason Neeley's voice, loud and anxious: "I mean, I can't even keep my _companion_ here! What good am I? I might as well just go home—"

Kevin winces, both at the pain in Mason's voice and the thought of someone else leaving.

"Mason, please, sit," Rob says, calm and kind. He continues talking, but by then Kevin is in the living room and can't hear the rest of the conversation.

Memories of all the times Kevin could've talked to Elder Neeley but didn't flash before his eyes. How many times had he heard in the missionary training centre that churches are built on relationships—between the individual and God, between the members of the congregation, between the congregation and non-believers? Now the church is splintering, and it's partly because of him.

In fact, hadn't he meant to talk to Brian about his worries about being sent to the outer darkness after death? Kevin winces. He'd completely forgotten. Kevin Price should've been spearheading a morale-boosting program, should've been leading a small group, should've been doing anything other than sulking over being abnormal and being second-place in his best friend's life.

_I'm going to stop feeling this way. I'm going to be better—for the church. For Arnold._

He waits, watching some of the ex-Mormons and the villagers play soccer outside. How long will the young men stay if bills mount, if parents issue ultimatums and bishops call them sons of perdition? How long will the villagers stay if life keeps grinding them down, or disease strikes, or another warlord decides to take out the church? How big will the Church of Arnold be in a year?

Will it still be here by the end of their mission?

Kevin's noticed his thoughts have become darker lately. Whenever he had the blues before Uganda, he just reminded himself that God loved him and thought he was special, and it usually perked him right up. Now, he has Arnold to perk him up, but he won't have him for long.

Mason leaves Rob's office. Kevin searches him for signs of the pain he heard in his voice, but there's nothing. Seeing the soccer game, Mason grins and heads outside.

_Seems like Rob solved the problem. _Kevin feels a bit annoyed. _I should be the one—_

_Sin of pride_, Kevin reminds himself. _Other people can serve the church just as well as—maybe even better than—me. Better than the me I am now, anyway. It'll be a whole 'nother story when I'm back to my old self!_

With that thought in mind, he walks over to Rob's office and raps on the doorframe. Rob glances up from a stack of paperwork.

"Do you have a minute to talk, Elder McKinley?"

Rob looks pleasantly surprised. "I do indeed. Sit, sit." Kevin closes the door behind him and sits in the brown chair opposite Rob's wooden desk. He notices a box of Kleenex out, and wonders if that was for Mason.

Now that he's here, Kevin can't quite find the words. He tries to talk a few times, but nothing comes out.

Eventually, Rob asks, "Is this about the orphanage?" At Kevin's surprise, Rob gently says, "You're not the first to have some questions about a loving God after seeing those kids and hearing some of their stories."

Kevin looks away from Rob, his gaze alighting on Rob's small bookshelf. He's barely even thought of the orphans since he left the orphanage on Monday. "Ah, no."

"The wedding, then?"

Slowly, Kevin nods. He glances at the closed door.

"Nothing you say leaves this room," Rob says, miming zipping up his lips.

"I'm just...worried about it, I guess. It's not because they're both young. Heck, my parents married at 23. But that was after they'd experienced the world, dated people, knew a bit more about what they wanted in life. Elder Cunningham and Sister Hatimbi...she even said the other night that she's not thinking about the future! And of course he won't if she doesn't." He's shaking his head as he talks.

Rob nods, steepling his fingers. "Am I right in thinking you haven't said these things to Elder Cunningham?"

Kevin squirms in his seat. "I haven't." Not without letting Arnold assume that Kevin is just thinking like Mafala to help Arnold, anyway.

"Would you like some help with telling him your feelings?"

Kevin shakes his head. _I'm going to let a good, decent man be the bad guy instead of getting my hands dirty. _Shame makes him feel like he has a film over his skin, grimy and dirty, like sweat.

"If you want, I can mediate your conversation and provide a safe, non-judgemental space for you both to talk about these issues." As district leader, Rob must've taken quite a few conflict resolution courses. "It might be just what you need. Elder Cunningham is a good friend, and I imagine it must be difficult for you to have these worries. To feel...less than perfect as a friend."

"Yes," Kevin admits. _I only wish it were like that, Rob. _

"Well," Rob shrugs, "tough." Kevin recoils in surprise and Rob chuckles. "Oh dear, that was a bit blunt, wasn't it? But you're not perfect. _No one_ is. You don't have to be, not with Heavenly Father's love. 'For we all stumble in many ways.'"

"James 3:2." Kevin frowns a bit, remembering James 3:8: _"The tongue is a restless evil, full of deadly poison."_

Rob seems impressed. "Exactly. But the Book of Arnold is about expressing," Rob gestures expansively outwards, "your feelings, not keeping them," his hands close in tight over his chest, "bottled up. Personally, I think your friendship with Elder Cunningham will survive—even be strenghtened—if you tell him your concerns."

"No." The word leaves his mouth without thinking. "I can't." He frowns at the memory of the ache in his chest—and winces at the memory of the pain in his ass—during those terrible two weeks after he tried to convert the General, when he and Arnold weren't talking.

"It's up to you, of course," Rob says, agreeably. He's probably disappointed in Kevin, but he doesn't show it.

Kevin nods. When he doesn't leave, Rob asks, "Something else?"

Kevin can't speak. He tries to think of one sentence and another thought hijacks it, or a memory scatters his words. He inhales slowly, searching for some sense of calm.

He begins with, "You're _sure_ nothing I say leaves this room?"

"Of course."

Kevin stares at his shoes. "I need your help turning it off." Rob is silent. "I've been having these feelings, and I _can't_ have them, so I need your help to get rid of them. I've never had feelings I needed to turn off before." He pauses. "Well, maybe pride, but I didn't know I needed to—" he interrupts himself; he's getting off-topic, "—the point is, I need your help."

"With turning what off, exactly?" Rob says carefully.

Such a sinful, shameful word, and he was once such a good person... "Jealousy." It took him a while to identify it—he's never felt it before. Oh, his parents told him he was clingy and moody when Mom brought Baby Jack back from the hospital, but he was barely a year old at the time. He can't remember that far back.

"Jealousy of...?"

Kevin swallows. "Of Sister Hatimbi. And," he clears his throat, "her relationship with Elder Cunningham."

There's something in Rob's quiet, "Ah," that makes Kevin look up. As far as Kevin can read, his expression is interested but neutral.

"I shouldn't be, of course," Kevin hastens to add. "She's kind, joyful, full of Christ's love. They're great together. My head knows that...but..." He has the sudden urge to loosen his tie; the room feels stuffy, too warm. "I need to feel happy for him. Even if this stupid wedding doesn't happen, she's not going anywhere."

Rob nods through Kevin's last sentence. "All the more reason, in my opinion, to feel your emotions and manage your responses them. I'm sorry, Elder Price. I'm always happy to talk, but I can't help you turn it off. It's just not healthy."

Kevin hadn't considered Rob saying no. "But I _can't_ manage them. That's what I'm saying." He stands and leans over Rob's desk, bringing his face closer to the district leader's. Rob blinks and pulls back slightly. "They're so..._strong_."

Rob chuckles dryly, which makes Kevin start—the last thing he expected was laughter. "Yes, the feelings you want to turn off _tend_ to be. Believe you me, I understand!" What seemed kind a second ago now seems patronizing.

"Then help me!" Kevin snaps. "Please!"

"Okay, let's lower the volume, here..." Rob says, lowering a hand illustratively. His tone is so close to Kevin telling his siblings, "Indoor voices, gang," that Kevin grinds his teeth.

Rob continues. "It's difficult, I know, but you need to_ own_ your jealousy. If we don't own our feelings, _they_ own _us_." His blue eyes are bright with excitement. "When you're ready, there are a few exercises we could try—"

Kevin slams his hand on Rob's desk, making Rob flinch. "I hate her!" He glances at the door, suddenly sure that Arnold was passing by at just that minute and heard him. _Stop being paranoid._ He catches his breath, then turns back to Rob just in time to catch his stunned expression becoming neutral and non-judgemental once again.

More quietly, Kevin says, "Every time he talks about her, I want to scream. Every time they kiss, my skin crawls. Every time Elder Hatimbi speaks out against their wedding, I want to cheer him on. I want to help—no," he swallows, his pulse hammering, "I _have_ helped Elder Hatimbi, I've just been subtle.

"I've never been so far from God—so far from the person I want to be—than I have been these past few days. Please, Elder McKinley: _help me_."

Rob's expression seems quite close to pity. There's a distinct pause before he shakes his head. He's weakening.

Kevin reaches across the desk and grabs one of Rob's hands in two of his own, squeezing tightly. "Turning it off might not even work for me! Then, we can do all the exercises and mediations you want. All right? How does that sound?"

Rob is staring at his hand entwined with Kevin's. Kevin abruptly remembers holding Effu's hand on the night of their semi-date. Rob might be feeling the same way she did then. Maybe if Kevin smiles, puts his hand on Rob's arm for a few moments, Kevin might be able to convince him...

Rob notices Kevin noticing him. His freckled cheeks flush pink as he jerks his hand away, leaving Kevin thoroughly unnerved by his thoughts.

"Would you like some water, Elder Price?" Rob says, a bit breathless.

"Yes!"

"Great!" Rob makes a valiant effort to give Kevin a wide berth in his tiny office and strides quickly to the kitchen.

Kevin flops back down in his chair, running his hands through his hair. _Further from the man I want to be than I ever have been. _Rob takes far longer than any kitchen-run should, but Kevin is grateful for the breather.

Rob returns and hands Kevin a full bottle of water—he's already drunk half of his. Kevin drinks. Rob closes the door and leans his forehead against it for a few moments. He murmurs something so quietly that, even in his otherwise silent office, Kevin can't hear it.

Rob stands straight, but still faces the door. "Tell me, Elder Price, why do you hate Heavenly Father?"

Kevin almost spits his water out. "_Excuse_ me?"

"'In God's care, there is love; in God's love, there is peace. The biggest lie of this world is that this isn't true.'" Kevin recognizes his own words to Effu last week. "If you're _not_ peaceful, well," Rob shrugs, "clearly you don't love God. It's really not that complicated."

Rob turns to face Kevin, looking down at him with a barely concealed sneer. "You want it complicated, of course. So you can rationalize things. Tell yourself that your jealousy isn't so bad. Other people—other sinners—feel it. Nothing bad happens to them! They get away with it. Why can't you?

"But God knows, and He judges."

Kevin always considered himself a warrior for Christ. He's realized since Uganda that faith came easily to him because his life was easy. As Rob preaches hellfire and brimstone, Kevin finds himself saddened for Rob yet perversely impressed. For Rob to still be Mormon while carrying so much guilt was really quite a feat of strength.

Unfortunately, Rob's strategies for turning it off aren't helping Kevin one bit. Kevin isn't sure God exists, so appealing to that part of him isn't very effective. _Wonderful. I begged him for it—I considered flirting with him for it!—and it's not even going to work. _

Rob must sense this. He sits behind his desk and takes a long swallow from his water bottle as he regards Kevin.

"How have your brothers and sisters been?" Rob asks suddenly.

Has Rob given up already? "Oh, fine." He feels a small pang, because he's not really sure. He emailed his brothers and sisters a few times since breaking with the LDS Church, but only Vanessa replied, just once, and that was little more than 'I'm praying for you.' Kevin keeps hoping Jack will reply; they've always been close.

"You're the oldest, right?"

"Yeah." Rob keeps looking thoughtful. To fill the silence, Kevin adds, "There's me, Jack, Vanessa, Scott, Tim and Katie. You've got two older sisters, right?"

Rob ignores the question. "I can't imagine what your family would think of you if they knew you were such a terrible friend."

Kevin can't stop himself from flinching. Rob sees it, and gives a tiny, unsettling smile. _He's not talking with his hands_, Kevin realizes, which disturbs him even more.

"You left the church, and now you've tried to stop your best friend from getting married. How would your parents react? Your little brothers and sisters? How can you be their big brother now, knowing what you know about yourself?"

Kevin opens his mouth to protest. "Are you worthy of that?" Rob asks, and Kevin can't speak. Is he? He literally has no memory of his family without the friendly competitions and rivalries between him and Jack, but Jack won't even talk to him. Vanessa, who always called him "my favourite big brother," only says she'll pray for him. If that's what they're like when all they know is the old Kevin, how will they treat the doubting-God-exists Kevin, the full-of-hatred Kevin—

—_the isn't-even-sure-he-can-fuck-a-woman Kevin_, his mind hisses. Kevin grinds his palm into his forehead, as if trying to shove that nasty voice to the back of his skulll.

"Whenever you feel angry, I want you to think of your family. You want to be a good person for them, don't you?"

When Kevin nods, Rob comments, "It must sting, that she calls him Arnold when you don't."

Kevin's jaw clenches. Just like Rob said, Kevin pictures what Katie's face would look like if he told her the kind of person he is now. His anger bleeds away—but only slightly. Not enough.

"It's not working," Kevin mumbles. "I'm trying..."

Rob takes a small sip of his water. "I'm sure you are," he says neutrally. He looks away for a few moments. "Given what you've told me about your feelings toward Sister Hatimbi—and your actions—I wouldn't advise telling Elder Cunningham anything about them."

Kevin grips his knees tightly. He can't lose Arnold. If he is that...thing Arnold thinks he is, well, all he has is friendship, which is nothing compared to romance, nothing compared to a new family.

_Everyone else will move past me...I'll be stuck, trapped by a body that doesn't work..._

Rob's eyes are blue as a winter sky and fixated on Kevin as if he can read his thoughts. "Fear doesn't have to feed anger," he says softly. "It can fight it, too." A pause, then: "He probably expects you to give a toast at the wedding reception."

That sick, reeking rage rises—but Kevin has his worries about his family, his friendship, his body's instincts. For a while, it doesn't work. But Rob is always there with a comment or a quiet observation that thickens Kevin's armour.

Most of the time. Once, Rob's gaze goes distant and he murmurs, "If your parents ever found out what you think about him—what you want him to do to you—well, will they be your parents anymore?"

It's obviously spill-over from Rob's own efforts at turning it off. Blushing, Kevin clears his throat.

Instead, Rob glances at him, almost as if he expects Kevin to answer. Kevin waits a moment, but Rob doesn't look away. There's no 'almost' or 'as if'—Rob literally expects him to answer.

Kevin feels a surge of anger that has nothing to do with Arnold and Nabulungi. "That's not the issue."

There's a pause before Rob says, "Of course not." But he says it neutrally enough that Kevin decides he shouldn't look like he's protesting too much, and he lets it drop.

They finish with loosened ties, Kevin hunched over in his chair, Rob sitting on his desk watching him.

"He'll probably ask you to go ring shopping," Rob remarks.

Kevin grunts.

"How do you feel?" Rob asks.

"Nothing."

Rob gives a short, jerky nod. "That's a great start."

Kevin blinks, then smiles for the first time in ages. He feels clean, better than he has in weeks. There's no anger in his heart anymore; now, he can truly help the church, as he was always meant to.

"Thanks so much, Elder McKinley." He stands, giving him a manly thump on the shoulder. "This means a lot."

Rob gives him the same nod as before. "Good." He seems to be looking through Kevin. "Well. I have some paperwork I should get back to."

"Need any help with—"

"No!" Rob's forcefulness takes both of them aback. "No," Rob continues more quietly. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Well...all right, then. See you tomorrow, Elder McKinley."

Kevin doesn't; if he didn't know any better, he'd say Rob was avoiding him. He does, however, find Nabulungi alone when he goes into the kitchen to help prepare dinner.

"Hello!" she greets. "I thought I would help. It seems wrong that my village lets you boys do so much work."

"We're happy to do it. We have electricity, after all. Makes cooking a lot easier."

The mission's dinners have been very eclectic, depending on the food available—Kevin doesn't even bat an eye that they're eating scrambled eggs. He knows by sight every hen that produced these eggs, and has private names for most of them (Sister Damisi laughed when he asked if they named their chickens). He'll never look at food the same way again.

Kevin looks about for Eric, who's also on dinner duty tonight. Seeing this, Nabulungi says, "I think Elder Thomas is busy with some scripture readings."

That's not like him to forget. "I'll go get him."

"Elder Price," Nabulungi says hurriedly, "could you please wait a moment?"

"All right..."

Nabulungi fiddles with her tie as she speaks. "Elder Price, I worry that I might have offended you. Perhaps it is just my imagination, but you seem to be angry with me."

Kevin grimaces in embarrassment. "I've been drinking less coffee lately—I've been pretty snappy at everyone."

Nabulungi nods. Those social instincts that make her such a good proselytizer must be screaming that he's full of shit, for she says, "I hope that if I have offended you, you would let me know. We are both close to Arnold, so I want us to get along."

Kevin knows from Arnold that the best lies have some truth in them. He makes a big show of opening his mouth and drawing in breath to speak, then looking away.

"Yes?"

"Well, the night you slept over...I wasn't a big fan of how you just barged into our room without knocking."

Wincing, Nabulungi brings her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Heavenly Father—I am so sorry, Elder Price! Obviously, I was not thinking. I promise I will never disrespect your space again."

No defensiveness or justifications—just a simple apology. She's a really great person. Something sharp and bitter stirs. Kevin pictures Arnold frowning as he says "Don't ever talk to me again," sees Vanessa backing away from him and Jack snapping, "You're not my big brother!" Cold washes over the twisting, ugly thing in his guts, freezing it.

Kevin smiles. "Apology accepted."

Nabulungi relaxes, smiling brightly. "Shall we get started on dinner?"

She really is bad at cooking: she can't crack an egg without having to waste five minutes fishing out bits of egg-shell. Kevin doesn't snap or sigh or roll his eyes.

He doesn't feel much of anything.


	12. Chapter 12

To Arnold's surprise, Mafala approaches the missionary's table at breakfast that morning, with Gotswana and the General on either side. Arnold glances at his tie, sees it's crooked, and quickly straightens it. Beside him, Nabulungi blinks, then murmurs, "Oh," as if she's just remembered something.

"HE—" Arnold clears his throat, "Hello, Elder Hatimbi."

Mafala says, "Unfortunately, we need the jeeps today. The church must take the bus to Yunna."

That means a four-and-a-half hour trip instead of three. Rob McKinley keeps whatever he's feeling out of his voice when he asks, "What do you need the jeeps for? Anything we can help with?"

"Baba must have received a reply to our letter from the Red Cross this morning," Nabulungi explains. Mafala hands the letter to Rob, who reads it. "They will be delivering medicine to us. We will need the jeeps for to take the medicine from the drop-off point to our village."

"That's great!" Arnold whoops, and everyone else at the table nods or says something in agreement. "But why do you need all the jeeps?"

"Because," Rob says, "it says here you're receiving medicine for two-hundred people." There definitely are not two-hundred villagers in Kigali.

"We had that many at one time," Gotswana says easily.

"Doesn't that sound a tiny," Rob holds his thumb and fore-finger barely an inch apart, "_tiny_ bit like fraud?"

"We will give excess medicine to other villages," says Nabulungi. "Completely free, of course! And non-believers will be treated as equally as those who follow the Book of Arnold. It will be great exposure for the church."

Arnold doesn't remember agreeing to this exactly when he helped Nabulungi with their letter to the Red Cross. Then again, it had pretty much been her project. And he can't say he disagrees.

"The Red Cross has enough medicine to save everyone here a million times over," Arnold says. Maybe he was wrong about her being a Gryffindor. There's a little bit of Slytherin in her after all—like with Harry Potter himself, actually.

"Well...I guess..." Rob mutters.

"What's wrong, Elder Hatimbi?" Kevin asks. "Isn't this happy news?"

It's then that Arnold tunes in to the fact that only the ex-Mormons are smiling.

"You must understand," says Nabulungi, "out here, a Red Cross truck is a target. Warlords will steal medicine and force villagers to join their armies in exchange for it."

Glowering at the General, Gotswana adds, "Or force villagers to give their wives and daughters to the warlord's men to be raped."

The General avoids Gotswana's gaze. Mafala puts a hand on Gotswana's shoulder and murmurs something calming in their dialect of Swahili. Arnold shifts uneasily in his seat. The General has been a great help, and seems really remorseful for his past behaviour, but every now and then there's a reminder that he's done some really horrible things.

"So," Nabulungi says quickly, "we would appreciate your prayers for the men's safety."

"Of course—it's the least we can do!" says Rob as he stands. At his signal, everyone else stands too. Conversations from the villagers fall to a few stray murmurs.

"I'd like to pray for the safety of everyone going to get medicine from the Red Cross," says Rob in a loud, clear voice. "Let us bow our heads."

Arnold prays, but part of his mind is on something Rob said: _This is exactly the _least_ we can__ do._

They finish breakfast and go outside into a bright, humid day without a cloud in the sky. Most of the villagers are gathered around the jeeps, talking worriedly to each other, men embracing wives and children, friends embracing friends. Arnold follows Nabulungi as she rushes to her father's side and throws her arms around him.

"May the Force be with you that you may live long and prosper, Baba," she murmurs into his chest.

Mafala squeezes her tightly, stroking her hair. She pulls away after a few moments, wiping at her eyes. Mafala smiles down at her.

Arnold says, "Good luck, sir!" and watches that smile become a frown and a short nod.

"Elder Price?"

He turns behind him to see Kevin staring at the villagers, as pale as he was before four months of Ugandan sun, and Rob snapping his fingers in front of his face. Kevin's gaze doesn't flicker from the villagers for an instant. Arnold shares a confused and concerned glance with Nabulungi before they go to Kevin's side.

"Buddy...?" Arnold says, grabbing his friend's wrist. His pulse is fast and light.

Faintly, Kevin says, "Guns."

"What?"

Kevin claws at the knot of his tie, yanking it loose. "Guns. There." He jabs a finger at the back of the nearest jeep, which is a mess of tarp and blankets. Arnold frowns worriedly at Kevin.

"I know what they look like from—" Kevin gulps "—from the the General's camp."

"The General gave up his guns," Rob says soothingly. "We all saw him. We buried his ammo clips, remember?"

"Pal," Arnold says quietly, "I know you know our friends wouldn't do that." He glances back at the jeeps, seeing the General and his two lieutenants on one, seeing the lumps underneath the tarp that could easily be mistaken for guns by someone who has such awful memories of those three men.

"I remember the shape!" Kevin shouts, so suddenly and forcefully that Arnold backs up, blinking. Most of the villagers turn to stare at him; most of the ex-Mormons already are staring. Kevin notices this, gulps, and focuses solely on Arnold.

_Poor guy!_ Arnold squeezes Kevin's shoulder before moving toward the jeeps, saying, "I'll prove they're not, okay?"

Kevin staggers back, mumbling, "Gotta go—" and bolts for the Kigali café. Without thinking, Arnold begins to follow, then stops himself. He feels guilty leaving without explaining Kevin's accusations to the villagers.

Rob nods to Arnold. "I'll handle this, Elder Cunningham—go to him."

"Thanks!" Arnold says, and follows his companion into the café, only to come up short when Kevin slams the bathroom door in his face and locks it.

"I'm here if you need me, pal," says Arnold over the sounds of Kevin gagging. Arnold winces.

For a few moments, Kevin pants for breath. Sister Kimbay is watching him from behind the counter, looking a mixture of concerned and embarrassed. She turns away when she notices Arnold watching her and starts making some coffee.

"You don't have to come with us to Yunna today," Arnold says, glancing at the jeeps the villagers and missionaries. Rob is speaking to Mafala, everyone calm and relaxed.

_That is_, Arnold thinks suddenly,_ if all of us go to Yunna. _

"I'm good," Kevin says. "Just," he gives a strained laugh, "wow, hot outside today, huh? Think that was almost a heat stroke." Another weird laugh.

Oh. That's how Kevin wants to play it. Arnold makes himself chuckle. "Yeah, sure."

From the bathroom comes the creak-and-gurgle of old pipes and a fitful, inconstant spurt of water as Kevin splashes his face. Arnold listens to his breathing slow over the sound of Sister Kimbay steaming some milk. He thinks back to all the times he hid from his bullies in the school bathroom—times he wished he would have had a friend. When Kevin unlocks the door and steps out, his hair slightly damp, Arnold envelops him in a tight hug.

Kevin sighs. "C'mon, stop it," he grumbles, trying to push Arnold away.

"Nope. Not until I get a return hug."

"Elder _Cunningham_..."

"Still no."

Another sigh, and Kevin hugs him back, thumping him on the shoulder as he does so. "There, happy?" Kevin snaps—but there's a hint of a smile on his lips. Arnold grins and lets him go.

"Elder Price," says Sister Kimbay. Arnold turns to see her leaving the counter with a cup of Kevin's favourite latte in her hand. She offers it to him. At Kevin's surprise, she says, "It is policy to give a free drink to anyone having a heat stroke." She nods in the direction of the jeeps. "You are hardly the first to have one."

"Thank you," Kevin says, with a small-but-growing smile. As he takes it, his fingers brush against Sister Kimbay's, and they both look uncomfortable. "But I really should pay," Kevin says as he slips his backpack off his shoulders and digs around for his wallet.

"You do not have—"

"Then it's a tip." Kevin finds his wallet, pulls out a bunch of bills and hands them out to her. Sister Kimbay's eyebrows rise—from what Arnold can see, there are quite a few tens. She eyes Kevin a moment and, when he doesn't retract his hand, takes the money with a small shrug and a grin.

"If I had known this was how you treated your ex-girlfriends, I would have made you dump me much sooner."

"Nothing you did _made_ me—" Kevin says earnestly. He suddenly glances at Arnold, his cheeks flushing pink.

It takes Arnold a moment to work out what's going on. "Oh! Um, I'm going to...you know...outside..." He leaves as quickly as he can. From what he can see, Sister Kimbay and Kevin start talking after he leaves.

What he hears is some commotion going on. Rob, Mafala, Nabulungi, Eric and the General are talking loudly—and some are talking angrily—over everyone else.

"—Heavenly Father's green earth were you thinking—"

"—_Baba_, you promised—"

"—the General _misspoke_—"

"—congregations are supposed to _trust_ each other—"

"Um, hey," Arnold interrupts, waving awkwardly. "What's going on?" He glances at Nabulungi, who looks at him worriedly.

"Elder Price was right," Rob says, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at the villagers.

Arnold starts. "Oh!" Nabulungi's expression doesn't change. Did she know about this?

"Guns without bullets," adds Mafala. "The guns will be just for show, to warn away looters and warlords. We will not even reveal them unless we see someone moving in to attack."

Mafala says, "Does it not say in the Book, 'at times, evil shalt triumph because good is dumb'?"

Arnold hopes he hides his uneasiness well. Does it say that? Just as he relies on Nabulungi and Mafala to help him apply his stories to the rural Ugandan way of life, he relies on Kevin to be the big picture guy. He can't really remember the last time he's read the book that bears his name cover to cover.

"How did _Mel Brooks_ get in our religion?" Brian Church grumbles.

"Um..." Arnold mumbles, "I think God might've meant something like 'God helps those who help themselves'." He stands up a bit straighter, gaining confidence. "Which He does. I don't really see what's so bad about having unloaded guns." He glances at Nabulungi, whose expression relaxes into a small smile, and his heart swells with love.

"_If_ they're unloaded," Elder Michaels says. Ignoring Rob's 'cut it out!' gesture, he continues with, "Maybe we need to check where we buried the bullets and find out. You buried them with us, after all," he says to Mafala. "You know where it is."

Mutumbo glares at Elder Michaels. "So what if the guns are loaded? You want to lecture us about what we need to do to survive in our country, white boy?"

"WOAH!" Arnold bellows, holding his hands out. "Wooaaah. Okay. Nobody's lecturing anybody. I think Elder Michaels is just a bit hurt that you decided not to tell us what you were really planning." He glances at Nabulungi, who winces in pain (or is that guilt?), then he wishes he hadn't. This isn't about him and her; he needs to focus. "We're a congregation. That's kind of like being a family, and that means sharing everything. I mean, we would've been cool with it."

A story pops into his head; before he even knows where it's going, it's spilling out of his mouth. "Even the thirteenth disciple, the Doctor, knew he could use his reputation to prevent a fight. When warlords and looters were gonna attack him and Jesus on the road to Damascus because Jesus was carrying the Holy Grail, the Doctor shouted, 'This is Jesus, the oncoming storm! The lonely God! He took out Sauron, Shai'tan and the Thread! You think he can't handle you little men?' And everyone stood aside and let them pass. Jesus didn't even have to Vulcan nerve-pinch anybody!

"And, if you need any extra protection...I could join you guys."

"What?" says Mafala over the approving murmurs of most of the other villagers.

"Arnold!" Nabulungi blurts out, frowning in worry.

"Are you sure you know what you risk, prophet?" Mafala asks.

Arnold nods, straightening his shoulders. "The same thing as you guys." For the first time in a long time, Mafala isn't frowning at him.

Behind Arnold, Rob laughs nervously. "Elder Cunningham, I think maybe we need you in Yunna a lot more—"

Nabulungi puts her hand on Arnold's shoulder. His "I don't see why," is subdued as he looks into her eyes and wills her to understand that he _needs_ to do this.

She shakes her head, her lips pursed tight. She's getting angry; his pulse leaps in fear.

"Nabulungi, child," says Sister Damisi, "the prophet protected us from General Butt-Fucking Naked. Why should God fail us now?"

Nabulungi doesn't even glance her way. "Please," she whispers fiercely, "go to Yunna. _Please_."

He nods, begins to say "Okay," then stops himself. "I...can't."

"Can't what?" comes Kevin's voice behind him, and Arnold's stomach sinks.

Nabulungi tersely explains the situation to him—the second she finishes, he exclaims, "No. No way."

"Yes way! God hath revealed unto me that I should help my brethren and do as they do!"

Something about the wording makes Kevin pale and open his mouth to speak. Glancing at the villagers behind him, he changes whatever he was going to say to, "Elder Cunningham, a word?"

"With you in a sec, guys," Arnold tells Mafala over his shoulder as Kevin leads him off—and Nabulungi follows.

Kevin's eyes narrow slightly at her. "I'm sorry, Sister Hatimbi. I meant in private."

"I think we want a word on the same subject, Elder Price," she says, with a small smile that vanishes when she looks back at Arnold.

Arnold can't speak when she's staring at him like that. He wants to take it all back. He makes himself look back at the jeeps; at the men of the village, butchers and shop-keepers and doctors, ready to brave danger; at Mafala, who watches the three of them thoughtfully.

"Buddy," says Kevin, "if God's telling you to do something this stupid, then that's probably not God talking!"

"So Elder Hatimbi is being stupid?" Arnold says.

"That's different and you know it."

"Arnold, you have brought so much joy and hope to this village. How would the church survive if...if something happened to you?"

"Guys, this is like a Klingon's Rite of Ascension! Or, on _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, when Sokka went ice dodging...It's a really great show, by the way; I'd totally recommend it. I—" Seeing their blank stares, he abandons that point. "I'm tired of not being able to help people." He frowns, thinking of how none of his prayers have helped Brian Church's mom, or kept Brian from leaving the Church of Arnold. "I can help my friends—my family, since Mafala is going to be my dad—by going with them. You heard them! A lot of 'em really seemed to like the idea of me coming!"

"Because they think God speaks to you!" Nabulungi protests. "They do not know you are just a man! You know—"

"I know," Arnold says gently, "that I can't do anything less than your father and the rest of the men in the village."

"We have to go, Elder Cunningham!" calls Mafala from the jeeps. Everyone is already loaded in. It looks like there's just room enough for him.

Spiderman sagely whispers in Arnold's ear, "With great power comes great responsibility," while Captain Hammer sings, "_A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do..._" Arnold gulps and steels himself.

"Pray for me?" he asks Nabulungi. When she nods, her gaze terrifyingly distant, he kisses her. She grabs his tie and kisses him back so hard he's breathless by the time they break apart. Seeing Kevin's miserable, frustrated expression, Arnold has the sudden, wild urge to kiss Kevin, too—he settles for a hug.

Arnold gets in the same jeep as Mafala and the General, and the convoy heads off. They go from paved roads to gravel, which soon fades to just tire tracks in the dirt. Mafala is navigating. Arnold tries to be like Kevin or Nabulungi and have a conversation with him, but can't get much more out of him than where the drop-off site is. Mutumbo's jeep seems to be constantly laughing as he reels off joke after joke that Arnold can't quite hear over the roar of wind in his ears. Arnold wishes he could make Mafala laugh.

Arnold scans the horizon for cars, pretending he's in the Mako from the _Mass Effect _series, scanning for geth. Of course, the Mako is an armoured tank with a machine-gun and a giant cannon, not a jeep with machine-guns that might not even have bullets. _What I wouldn't give for Lieutenant Ashley on this mission!_

They reach the drop-off site an uneventful hour-and-a-half later. It's a small shock to see the unknown white face of the Red Cross worker—in the jeep are two locals with guns proudly displayed. Mafala presents the letter and other paperwork; everything seems to be in order and everything gets loaded up. Arnold tries to help, but the village men are able to lift the big, heavy boxes, while he can only pick up the light ones. Nobody says anything, but he feels judged and found wanting anyway.

On the ride back, Arnold starts trying to come up with something clever or awesome to say to Mafala. He doesn't get very far. Twenty minutes into their drive, Mafala hisses, "Shit!" Arnold follows his gaze to see a collection of trucks and jeeps in the distance, fading in and out due to the waves of heat on the horizon. "Get the guns out!" Mafala orders.

Everything is a flurry of movement. Arnold sits, gawping. _I should've told Mom and Dad I love them. I WAS JUST IN YUNNA YESTERDAY! WHY DIDN'T I DO THAT?_

Mafala interrupts his thoughts by handing him a gun. Arnold stares at it, shaking his head before he realizes what he's doing and stops. "I...I don't think...um, thank you, but..."

"All right," Mafala says, nodding, his gaze going to the oncoming group. Arnold tries to count how many trucks and jeeps he sees, but fear keeps making him lose track and start over. They certainly seem to have more than the church does, that's for sure.

Glancing at Arnold, Mafala hisses out of the side of his mouth, "We could use your prayers, prophet!"

"OH! RIGHT!" Arnold clasps his hands together and bows his head. "Uh, Heavenly Father..."

He squeezes his eyes shut and wracks his brain frantically—but Pinkie Pie is singing about giggling at the ghostie, Xander is joking, Merry and Pippin are worried about elevenses, and everybody is trying to distract him but being completely unhelpful. Sansa Stark helps him, whispering, "Gentle Mother, font of mercy..."

"Heavenly Father, font of mercy, save us all from war we pray. Stay the...uh, guns and...the bullets and teach us all a kinder way..."

He waits, but Sansa shrugs at him. "It's not my fault," she says, "that you don't remember my chapters that well. Oh, I know I'm not as _exciting _as Arya, but—" The sound of engines are coming closer.

_NEXT!  
><em>  
>Gandalf steps up and suddenly, Arnold knows what he's going to say. "And if any of us do, uh, get hurt, help us remember that death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise."<p>

Arnold opens his eye a crack. Nobody seems to be listening to him. He breathes a sigh of relief.

There are two jeeps and five trucks to their three. An older man steps out of a truck, a do-rag tied to his head, an AK-47 in his hands. His gun pointed at Mafala, he shouts something in Swahili that is definitely an order. Mafala replies calmly; the raiders look surprised. The two men keep talking.

Arnold starts to feel like an NPC next to Mafala's PC. If only he could understand what they were saying... He steps toward Gotswana, whispering, "What's he—?"

Suddenly, the leader shouts and points his gun at Arnold. Arnold always assumed his life would flash before his eyes in a life-or-death situation, but it doesn't. He tries, but he can't remember his parents' faces—not even Nabulungi's or Kevin's. His whole world is the muzzle of that gun.

Mafala mutters, "He says to _stay still_, prophet."

Somebody whimpers. Arnold likes to think such a pathetic sound wouldn't come from his throat, but it probably did.

After a few more minutes of cautious words and wary glances, Mafala has Elder Ghali and Mutumbo go to the back of their jeep and unload some of the boxes of supplies. Slowly and carefully, they move toward the raiders and set them on the ground. The leader of the raiders orders one of his men forward—he opens the box, showing off small bottles of pills. There are some more confused murmurs from the raiders. Arnold starts feeling guilty for thinking of them as "raiders"—they're villagers, just like the villagers of Kigali. They're just doing what they have to do to survive.

Mafala speaks again, calmly and purposefully, and Arnold finds himself listening to to every word despite having no idea what he's saying. Mafala gestures to Kigali as he finishes. The leader's face twists suddenly into a sneer as many of the men beside him recoil in shock or surprise. Their leader speaks, his voice hard and cold as ice as he points at the General, who shifts uncomfortably by Mafala's side. The General says a few words, but he's drowned out by jeers and shouts. The hairs on the back of Arnold's neck jerk upright at the anger on their faces.

Once again, Mafala steps in and speaks. This time, the other villagers have much less patience for him, though they seem to calm down. The men take the boxes. The leader and Mafala talk a little while longer, then he and his men drive off. Arnold finds himself sitting, though he can't remember telling his body to do so.

"We should get moving," Mafala says, to general murmurs of agreement.

"So...what happened?" Arnold asks.

There's an uncomfortable pause before Mafala says, "We paid them a toll. They will not be visiting us in Kigali."

It doesn't seem that Mafala is going to say anything else. Gotswana is closest to him; Arnold leans in and whispers, "Why'd they get angry at Kigali?"

Gotswana shakes his head, his lips pursed. "Not Kigali. Mafala suggested they visit our church, but they do not want to belong to any church that has General Butt-Fucking Naked as a member."

"Oh," Arnold murmurs. He'd never thought of that before.

"Who can blame them?" Gotswana says with a shrug.

"He's changed now!"

"That does not erase what he did," Gotswana says, loudly enough that he's sure Mafala and the General can hear. The muscles on the General's back tighten beneath his dingy wife-beater.

"You have something to say, General?" Gotswana snaps.

The General is so quiet that Arnold has to strain to hear him. "Only that I try to live in the light of Christ Jesus, Elder Hareffi. I was blind but now I see, as Geordi said to Jesus."

_Hmm—that's a little insensitive to Geordi__—__it's sorta like he can't be awesome if he can't see. Maybe I should re-write that one... _Realizing that Gotswana is speaking, Arnold forces himself to listen.

"...keep it that way, you—"

"Enough!" says Mafala. Glowering at Mafala, Gotswana stops talking.

Arnold wishes he knew what to say. With the loving, caring congregation around him, sometimes it's easy to forget that he's come to a place with so many wounds and so few ways to heal them. _But we'll try._

The drive back is uneventful except for seeing a pride of lions far in the distance. Gotswana chuckles indulgently when Arnold points them out—they're as interesting to the villagers as the stay dogs in Yunna. As they drive past the empty mission, Mafala turns to look at Arnold.

"Thank you for coming, prophet," he says, without the coolness that's become commonplace between them.

Arnold grins. "You're welcome, sir!"

People stream from the village toward the jeeps, pale ex-Mormons among the dark villagers, almost everyone singing and clapping. They stop as families rush forward to greet their loved ones. Nabulungi and Kevin are running toward Mafala's jeep. Arnold scrambles to the ground, arms open to receive his fiancée.

Only he receives Kevin instead, who nearly knocks Arnold off his feet. Nabulungi holds her father close, murmuring in Swahili as he bends down and they rest their foreheads together. Kevin, meanwhile, is laughing wildly as he crushes Arnold's ribs.

"HI, PAL!" Arnold says. "WE—"

Kevin's frantically murmured, "I'm so sorry," makes him lose his train of thought completely.

"Huh?"

He can feel a cough—no, a sob?—hitch Kevin's breathing. "You won't do something like this alone next time. I just...with the General...I couldn't... But I'll be better! I know I will! Heavenly Father, I'm just so glad you're safe! We prayed, we all held hands and prayed so hard, but I just kept thinking 'Is there really someone listening? Is there?'"

Arnold's never heard Kevin sound so familiar—_like me when I'm really into something_, he realizes. It's weird. _His freakout about the General earlier today must've really shaken him up!_

"BUDDY!" Arnold interrupts. "God needed me there and you here! It's like when Adama had to leave the civilians on New Caprica when—" he can just imagine Kevin's eyes glazing over "—um, I mean—"

Acting on a sudden, blind impulse, he pulls out of the hug just enough to see Kevin's intense expression and the tears that waver in his eyes before Kevin glances away, trying to hide them. His tie is as sloppy as Arnold's is usually, and his hair is so tousled it's as if his morning hairspray routine hadn't happened.

Arnold begins to speak, but he has no idea what to say. He glances over at Mafala and Nabulungi, daughter and father hugging each other and talking as if all the fights of the past few days were erased, easy with each other as two people who love each other should be.

"GOD LOVES YOU, ELDER PRICE!" Arnold blares into Kevin's face, so loud that Kevin winces.

"Really, mate?" snarks Spike from _Buffy_, "'God'? Is that a nickname for 'Arnold,' now?" Arnold blushes, and of course he glances over and sees Nabulungi and Mafala watching him, and whatever he was going to say vanishes.

Kevin sees where he's looking, and drops his arms from their very-enjoyable position around Arnold's back and shoulders. "I should let you three—"

But then Nabulungi shouts "Group hug!" Arnold has no time to tell her how twitchy Kevin can get about touching. All three of them hug, arms squeezing tight, bodies smushed together. Kevin looks surprised and awkward, and glances Nabulungi, who beams at him as tears roll down her face. They keep communicating silently, but Arnold can't follow the exchange of eyebrow twitches, mouth movements and glances, because a Darth Vader-deep voice booms, _I want this—their flesh on my flesh, their breath on my skin, their smells in my nose..._

_Shut up, brain_, Arnold tells himself. He's getting more than he deserves already.

Kevin breaks the hug first, turning away with a slightly stilted, "Glad to have you back, Elder Cunningham." He quickly wipes at his eyes as he walks away.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of congratulations, singing, prayers, and recounting the story of their mission. Arnold notices that the General leaves the village quickly, but Mafala follows him. He can't tell if the two men speak, or what they say if they do speak, but he hopes they're both guided by Christ. The ex-Mormons eventually return back to the mission to get dinner started. An hour into it, Nabulungi interrupts Arnold as he cuts up some yams and asks to talk to him. She doesn't appear happy.

Arnold's hands are sweaty as he half-opens the door to his and Kevin's room. "Um, so, what's up?"

Nabulungi can't look at him as she fiddles with her tie. "I begged you!" she blurts out, her gaze suddenly locking on his. Her expression is angrier than he's ever seen it. "I begged you—in front of the _entire_ village—and you still went!

"Elder Price told me what Klingons are!" she snaps. "They're from a TV show. But life is _not _a show! Death is _everywhere _here. I wish I could help you understand that." She snorts. "And now Baba thinks your foolishness is bravery."

"That's great! That's...that's what I wanted."

"So?" she hisses. "You still could have _died_, Arnold. That is the point."

"Look," Arnold says soothingly, "in the Book of Arnold, it says 'Today is all that matters.' Not the past." He stops talking at the sheer contempt that tightens her face.

"You are not going to use _your_ book to get out of this, Arnold Cunningham! How _dare_ you!"

She's figured out how useless he is. A horrible thought occurs, and it's been too long a day to keep it inside: "Do you want to call it off?"

"_What_?"

"The wedding."

Her lips part for a few seconds, but she doesn't say anything. When she does, the words explode out of her. "There you go again! You did the same thing when I told you my worries about leaving Baba and my home the other day. Your book also tells us not to keep our feelings hidden—yet whenever I am upset or angry, you try to make me feel guilty. That is not right, Arnold!"

That's what she thinks? "Oh, no, no, no!" he yelps, panicked. "Nabulungi, that's not why I said that!"

"Then why?"

"BECAUSE OF COURSE YOU'LL LEAVE ME!" Nabulungi recoils in surprise as the words keep spilling out of him. "MY FRIENDS ALL LEFT ME, MY OWN DAD WON'T TALK TO ME, I'M A FAT NERD, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, AND IF KEVIN EVER WANTED—"

Nabulungi closes the door behind her before he can finish that sentence. A sickening, chilly wave rolls beneath his skin—Kevin was playing Monopoly in the break room with Brian Church, Eric Thomas and Mason Neeley, and could've easily heard that. Arnold plops onto his bed, breathing heavily.

Nabulungi sits beside him and throws her arms around him. "I love you," she whispers. "I love you so much." He holds her, and they don't say anything for a while, until Arnold can breathe normally and his heart-rate slows.

"I did not know you felt that way," Nabulungi murmurs. "I should have known you were not trying to shame me for feeling angry. That is not your way. Yelling and behaving like a crazy woman is not my way, either, and I am sorry I let you see that. You did what God was telling you to do and it worked, and that is all."

Arnold never wants to see her like that again, and opens his mouth to say 'Thank you,' but Lee Adama gives him a disapproving look and notes, "Do you know how many problems Kara and I could've solved if we'd just _talked_ to each other about our feelings?" A whole host of other TV and book couples nod their heads in agreement behind him.

"If you feel something," he says, "I want to know it."

Nabulungi inhales deeply. "I am still a bit mad," she says tentatively. "I cannot help that. I am sorry." Arnold kisses her on her temple since he can't think of anything to say. She smiles slightly.

"I am also mad at Baba, too," she adds. "I begged him for days to accept you. I cried. We said such things..." She swallows, then shakes her head, as if putting away bad memories. "I wanted to be the one to convince him of your worth, not you. So I am angry with you and happy for you both."

"One person can't feel that much!" Ron Weasley exclaims. "They'd explode." _Amen, brother._

"Are you sure you will still have me?" she teases.

"Well, I'll think about it." The two giggle and kiss before Arnold returns to chopping yams.

At dinner, the General and his lieutenants sit where they always do, though they seem subdued. So does Kevin, but at least he doesn't treat Arnold any differently, which means, hopefully, he missed Arnold's rant. And, most importantly, Mafala greets him with a hearty, "Hello, prophet!"

"Hi, sir!"

"I wanted you to know," he says, loudly enough for the dining hall to hear, "that I will give you my blessing to marry my precious daughter."

"LL&P!" and "Amen!" say most of the villagers; the ex-Mormons applaud. Rob McKinley puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles loudly.

_Mafala is proud of me. _The sentence buzzes in his brain, becoming a shout, becoming a roar. Even as a tiny voice whispers, _Be cool, Arnold_, he pulls Mafala into a hug and bellows, "THANKS, DAD!"

Mafala laughs, thumping his back. "You are so weird, you crazy prophet-man!" he says fondly, to the laughter of some of the crowd. He even pulls Arnold in tighter, which makes Arnold grin so hard his cheeks hurt.

"If you hurt her," Mafala whispers in his ear, "I will give you my AIDS, prophet or not."

Even that can't bring him down. "Sure thing, Dad."


	13. Chapter 13

The marketing campaign for the Church of Arnold's free medicine goes into effect the very day that Mafala gives his support for Arnold and Nabulungi's relationship. Nabulungi makes lots of "texts," and she and most of the villagers deliver them at the market. After that, other than going to the orphanage, everyone hangs around the hospital and awaits the crowds. ('Oh, thank Heavenly Father," Arnold catches Rob saying to Eric, "you don't want to _know_ how much we're paying for gas these days...") A day becomes two, and no one shows. Two becomes three, with no change. Three becomes four.

A small group of lepers arrives that day—two young men with missing fingers, a blind older woman without toes. Arnold notices that only the ex-Mormons are around to greet them. Nabulungi, their clerk, smiles and says hello, but she doesn't help Arnold, Rob and Kevin talk about the Book of Arnold the way she usually does.

Themba, the older woman, thanks them profusely as she takes a Book of Arnold and a round of antibiotics, as the church doesn't have any leprosy-specific medications. Nabulungi sighs in relief when they leave.

"Thank Heavenly Father they're gone! Quick, wash your hands," she hisses to them, before heading to the café to do just that.

Kevin and Rob share a look.

Rob says, "'They stood at a distance and called out in a loud voice, 'Jesus, Master, have pity on us! Oh, and you too...' Uh..." he snaps his fingers as thinks, "'and you too, Captain America!'"

Kevin looks thoughtful. "Mm, maybe not Captain America. Too imperalistic."

"Ah, right," Rob says, chuckling. "Good thing I'm not writing this, isn't it?"

Kevin grins at Rob. "That's some amazing recall. I'm challenging you to a game of 'Name that Verse' sometime!"

Rob shakes his head. "Oh, I'd love to, but I'm just so busy lately!"

Kevin glances around at the completely deserted front of the hospital. "Really?"

"Yes! A district leader's work is never done!" Rob's laugh is weird, but Arnold can't pinpoint why because he's too busy trying to figure out what they're talking about.

"Who's calling to Jesus?" he finally interrupts.

"Lepers," says Kevin, as Rob takes the opportunity to hurry away. "Looks like we need a few verses about leprosy in the Book of Arnold." He nods to the café, where Nabulungi is.

"You can't blame her for that!" Arnold says urgently. "Leprosy is really deadly, and it's super-easy to catch!"

"Um, actually, buddy, 95 percent of the world's population is immune to leprosy, and it's only communicable by bodily fluids."

"Says who?"

"Says the literature our bishops gave us that I read on the plane while you were reading your Kindle."

He had to get in one last re-read of _The Hobbit _before touching down in Uganda. "Oh."

Kevin glances at him. "You're okay mentioning this to your fiancée?"

"Sure!" He isn't, and waffles for the rest of the day. He has little to distract him: nobody else comes. _Where_ is _everybody?_

When he finally says, "Hey, so, God revealed to me that we should be nice to people with leprosy, since you can only catch it by blood and spit and stuff, and it's really not their fault that they're sick," she looks uneasy.

"Has God fact-checked this? Actually fact-checked this? Not just skimmed the Wikipedia entry?"

"God's best friend said it was in the info-sheets we got before our mission."

"And God knows this is going to be a hard sell?"

"God's cool with it. And Themba took a Book of Arnold! She might be back. We can't turn people away...especially since no one's coming out."

After a heavy sigh, Nabulungi gives him a small smile. "All right, then." She's right about it being a hard sell: when he announces the revelation at dinner (about the Emergency Medical Hologram from _Star Trek: Voyager _and how he both gained sentience and learned to treat lepers as people), a lot of villagers go silent, or turn away shaking their heads. Mafala comes to his defence with a grumpy, "You heard the prophet, you assholes—be nice if any more of those fuckers show up."

The next day, most everybody stays at the hospital again. This time, nobody arrives. Only the day after, when most of the congregation either returns to Yunna or starts heading out to other nearby villages, do they find out why.

Arnold and Nabulungi hear it from Elder Ghali when he returns from the nearby village of Umar. "There is a rumour that our medicine is an American plot to sterilize Africans."

"Oh, Heavenly Father!"

"Some think the medicine is actually poison. Some think you must join the General's new army to receive any. Some think you must join a weird religion that involves frog-fucking and aliens to get the medicine."

"But...but only Joseph Smith got with a frog!" Arnold sputters.

Elder Ghali sighs. "We know that, prophet, but to stop a rumour is like catching the wind."

Arnold feels bad, of course—but not as much as most, because Nabulungi now has lots more time to spend with him and help plan their wedding. They develop a new, unspoken rule 72: they're together all day except for going to the bathroom and at bedtime. One of the first things they work on are their emails to Arnold's parents. Nabulungi stresses out about this; every day she seems to have a new, multiple-page draft. Arnold doesn't even question that whatever she emails them will be perfect.

He doesn't until she asks, "Arnold, what is the correct plural of 'clitoris'?", anyway. Arnold's only reply is a pained whimper. It's up to Kevin to say that she should probably leave that part out.

After that, Arnold reads over what she's written. With some help from Rob, who's amazing at spelling and grammar, and Arnold for content (he asks her to delete any reference to "hasa diga Eebowai"), Nabulungi's voice shines through. She writes about her life in Uganda, briefly mentions her mother's and brothers' deaths and being raised by her father, and pays particular attention to how their son and his church changed her life.

_Even now_, she finishes,_ that I know that Salt Lake City is not the paradise I assumed it was when the elders first told me about it, I know it will be a wonderful place—particularly because I have there a new mother and father I am very anxious to meet! In the meantime, I hope we can get to know each other through our emails. May the Force be with you, that you may live long and prosper!_

Arnold beams proudly at her as she clicks "send." His own email is only a paragraph, mostly about how he wishes Mom and Dad could be there for his special day—and how he knows God wants him to marry Nabulungi. It takes him much longer to click "send" than it does for her, and he wipes his sweaty palms on his pants when he's done.

_Heavenly Father, I'd really appreciate it if this turns out well._

* * *

><p>Elder McKinley stops Arnold and Nabulungi the next day. "Hey—mind if I borrow you two lovebirds for a sec?" They nod, and he leads them to his office.<p>

"Well, once again I just want to say congrats for puttin' a ring on it. Woah-oh-oh!" he sings, raising his left hand and wiggling his fingers.

Arnold doesn't get the reference. Nabulungi seems to—she giggles, anyway.

Rob slaps his hand down. "Oh, bad Rob. Even if Beyoncé did have the best music video of all time, it's not 2008 anymore!"

"Yeah," Arnold chuckles, "get out of your Delorean."

Rob looks blankly at him for a moment before he brightens and says, "Oh! Haven't thought of that movie since I was a kid." There are two chairs in Rob's office. Obviously, Rob planned this. They sit, and Rob smiles at them from behind his desk. He has purple smudges underneath his eyes.

"How are things, Elder McKinley?" Arnold asks.

Rob waves a hand dismissively. "Oh, they're fine, just fine."

"You _do_ look kinda tired."

He laughs loudly. "Oh! A rough night or two, nothing major. But thanks for your concern." Rob inhales deeply. "Well! I just wanted to make sure you two were completely informed about certain aspects of married life, particularly the kind that have a lot of misinformation around them, here and back home. I found this link," he pushes a piece of paper at them, "and it seems to be a solid, reputable site. And, as always, if you have any questions, feel free to talk to me. My door is always open."

The site is about sexual and reproductive health. Arnold blushes. "Oh! Thanks." There are a few steamy scenes in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series—also in the adventures of the courtesan-spy heroine of Jacqueline Carey's _Kushiel's Dart_, which he never let his parents catch him reading—so he thinks he has a pretty good idea how sex works, but it probably couldn't hurt to learn more.

"Yes, thank you," Nabulungi says. He can't quite tell with her skin colour, but it seems like she's blushing as well. "I imagine you never thought your district leader duties would require you to do this!" Everyone chuckles, and Arnold feels some of the tension fade away.

"I just want to keep my Church of Arnold family happy and healthy," Rob says. His grin falters a bit. "Speaking of—I hate to pry—but are you two thinking of children anytime soon?"

"God, no!" Nabulungi says with a chuckle, and Rob relaxes. "I am not giving birth in this shit-hole, do not worry! I will not for many, many, _many _years."

That's a lot of manys. "How many?" Arnold asks.

"Ten, at least." Arnold can't hide his dismay; Nabulungi quickly says, "Or maybe eight."

"Oh. Guess I always thought we'd have a big family right away. Not Duggar-big!" She looks confused—of course she wouldn't get that reference. "But I was thinking five or six." Now it's Nabulungi's turn to look dismayed. "But...three or four's good, too."

"We should—" Nabulungi begins.

Arnold finds himself spilling a daydream he's been having lately. "At the orphanage, there's this girl I tutor named Kasa. She's really cute and really smart! But she's got a missing leg, and I keep thinking, 'What if no one adopts her?', and—"

Nabulungi reaches out and strokes his hand. "That is very sweet of you, Arnold! But I think it would be best for everyone if we see what our life is going to be like in America before we think about children."

"That makes sense," Arnold says, still disappointed.

"We can discuss this later," she says, nodding to Rob, who's pretending to examine his paperwork.

"Oh, right!" He forgot Rob was there. "Sorry."

"That's okay. I think that's it for me, anyway!"

"Wait!" says Arnold, causing Nabulungi to glance at him curiously. "Could you be our wedding planner?" Arnold says. He then catches Nabulungi out of the corner of his eye—she's shaking her head.

"Not that you have to," Nabulungi says quickly. "You must be so busy lately."

Rob is frowning slightly. "Well, of course I'd love to help, but..."

Arnold suddenly figures out why Nabulungi was signalling him to be quiet and why Rob is frowning: Arnold assumed that Rob would be good at wedding planning because he's gay. "UH, WHAT I MEANT WAS—"

"I'm just not sure our styles fit," Rob explains. "Arnold, you're sci-fi; Nabulungi, you're African; I'm Old Hollywood glam."

Nabulungi looks confused. "I was not aware 'African' was a style."

Rob gestures expansively. "Oh, you know... Colour. Chanting. Drums."

Nabulungi opens her mouth, then pauses for a moment and finally says, "I would enjoy a princess theme along with whatever theme Arnold wants." Arnold grins at the thought of his perfect _Lord of the Rings_-style wedding.

Rob nods a few times. "Oh, princess I can work with. Well, if you want my help, then I am going to make it work!"

"Thank you!" Nabulungi grins. "Arnold has talked so much of how wonderful you are at organization. I know you will be such a help."

"Yeah!" Arnold says, desperate to make it seem like he didn't choose Rob because he's gay. "And you're also...really brave!"

Rob chuckles, looking confused. "Goodness! How so?"

"Well, yesterday I was freaking out because I told my parents I'm marrying a girl. But you came out to your family the second after the Church of Arnold was made. That's brave!"

Rob waves a hand dismissively. "It was almost a month after."

"Whatever, it was really soon!" _Says the guy who's only going to be himself around Nabulungi_, Arnold thinks, feeling a bit sad. _Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I told Kevin...  
><em>  
>"That—what?" says Kevin-in-Arnold's-head. "You check me out when I'm in my underwear?" Arnold shifts in his seat as he feels the disappointed stares of Joseph Smith, Brigham Young and his father burning into him. <em>Not a lot!<em> he objects—but even once is pretty gross. _Kevin_ definitely _can't know._

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Rob says. "Well—if I can preen a bit!—I'm glad I made such an impression, even though it's undeserved."

"How's your family dealing?"

"Mom mentioned something about me 'being confused' the other day. I think that means they're slowly accepting that all the times I wrote 'gay' in my twenty-paragraph coming out email weren't typos." With a wry smile, Rob shrugs. "It's a process.

"The really brave people are the people who are gay and can't leave Uganda. I can't even _imagine _what they have to go through."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you know? It was in the literature our bishops—" Rob obviously remembers who he's talking to, and says, "—anyway, the law is that anyone suspected of 'homosexual acts' can be jailed for up to fourteen years."

"Oh my God!"

"My country fucking sucks sometimes," Nabulungi agrees.

They practically run into Kevin on the way out. Rob hurries out of his way. Normally he'd smile, ask how Kevin was doing, pretend to brush some lint off his shoulder. Kevin frowns, concerned, at Rob's retreating form. Seems he was expecting something of the sort, too.

"Um," says Arnold. "I guess he got over his crush?"

Kevin's expression doesn't change. "I have been using less hairspray lately. I didn't think it showed..."

A laugh explodes out of Arnold. "Gosh, I'm sorry, Elder Price. I'm just...I'm pretty sure that can't be it."

"You look as handsome as always," Nabulungi says.

Kevin grins. "Oh, good." _Not like Kevin needs much convincing that he's totally hot._ Arnold's both amused and a little bit jealous.

"Oh, hey, Elder Price! I wanted to talk to you about something." Arnold clears his throat. "See, Nabulungi and I would like to stay together after we're married. In the same bed, I mean."

Kevin nods. "I can sleep on the couch until Elder Church's bed is free." He sighs. "It does look like nothing's keeping him here."

"But if he does decide to stay," says Nabulungi, "we should not have a plan that relies on a free bed. Arnold and I can stay with Baba."

There's no way Arnold is going to be able to make love to his wife in her dad's house. It'd just be too weird. "Elder Hatimbi is a great guy, sure... I'd just really feel more comfortable if she could stay with us."

Kevin blinks. "In our room?"

"We'd put up a curtain so nobody would see anything!"

"Please do not feel pressured, Elder Price," Nabulungi says. "I know how much you value your privacy. Perhaps I could take the couch instead and Arnold and I could...borrow the room sometimes?"

Kevin stares at the two of them expressionlessly. It's kind of eerie. Arnold is about to ask what's wrong, but Kevin smiles just before he gets the words out. "Heck, I'm not about to let two newlyweds sleep separately. As long as there's a curtain between my bed and yours, and you...let me know when you want some alone time, it should work out just fine."

"ALL RIGHT!" Arnold gives Kevin a shoulder-squeeze. As Kevin walks off, he tells Nabulungi, "See? He's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"He wouldn't have agreed to it if he wasn't, right?"

"Mm." She doesn't seem convinced, but she doesn't bring it up again.

That evening, Rob wants to talk about music. It turns out that Gotswana has a boombox that sometimes works—Gotswana is, in fact, fiddling with it in Rob's office when Arnold and Nabulungi enter. The selection of CDs and tapes in the village, however, is a bit limited, particularly when Nabulungi insists that their first dance song be in English.

"Well, that definitely narrows things down..." Rob mutters, rifling through the pile. Finding some English CDs, he reads off some songs. "Boogie Shoes? Disco Inferno? Papa Was a Rolling Stone?"

Arnold laughs. "Oh, man, I don't know the first thing about disco!"

Rob suddenly becomes much more excited. "Oh, _Grease_! _Jesus Christ Superstar_! _Evita_!" Turning to Gotswana, he says in surprise, "That's an impressive collection of 1970s musicals."

"My wife loved them," Gotswana replies. Arnold almost asks, 'Did she get bored of them?' before remembering that Gotswana has been single since Arnold has known him. "Please, borrow them if you would enjoy them, Elder McKinley! Ah, here you go!" Gotswana hands the boombox over to Rob, who takes it with a grin and a "Thank you!", and then leaves.

Nabulungi watches Gotswana go. "Gotswana _also _loves musicals," she notes, watching Rob intently.

Rob blinks a few times. "Well! Ah, thank you for the information, Nabulungi. But liking musicals doesn't _necessarily _mean—"

"Trust me—in this case, it does. And we have kept his secret; it is what we villagers do for those we care about."

"WAIT!" Arnold gapes at the two of them. "Elder Hareffi is GAY? But he had a wife!"

"Men get married to women here," Nabulungi says with a shrug. "It is just what you do."

Rob doesn't appear very enthusiastic. "He's a great guy, of course! But...just a smidge on the _old _side."

"Oh, only poverty makes him look old! He is in his early thirties, I am sure of it."

Rob's expression doesn't change. "Aheh! Thank you for the thought! Now, Elder Cunningham—do you like musicals?"

_I like musicals when ponies sing them._ "I like musicals if they're done by Joss Whedon—he's the creator of _Firefly_ and _Buffy_," he adds for Rob's benefit.

"My sister, Susan, made me watch a season or two of that show," Rob reminisces. "The season where Buffy has a sister—"

"Season five! Oh...maybe your sister was trying to help you accept yourself! That's nice." It makes him wish he had an older sibling.

At Rob's confused glance, Arnold winces. Obviously, Rob doesn't want to remember that part of his life.

"How so?" Rob asks.

Well, he did ask. "You know...Tara and Willow..."

"I'm not following."

"They're gay."

Rob looks surprised. "It completely passed me by. I'm always missing these subtle things."

"It wasn't subtle. In the next season, Willow tried to end the world because her girlfriend died!"

Rob looks a bit uneasy. "Wow. Obviously, closeted-Rob worked hard to forget about that." Whatever negative feelings he has vanish as he giggles. "Oh, I'm so bad!" He slaps his own wrist. "Seems I mostly remember that blond vampire!"

"Spike! Yeah! He's a great character!" _Who's even better shirtless!_

"Well, give these a listen and let's hear what you decide." Rob hands him the CDs.

Arnold always liked Rob, but he likes him even more now that he knows he can talk _Buffy_ with him. "Isn't Elder McKinley great? He's like one of the Weasleys only—" _sexier_, whispers a sneaky little voice, "—without glasses!"

Nabulungi has an eyebrow raised at Arnold as she grins. "Should I be setting him up with you, perhaps?"

Arnold bursts into gales of laughter—which he chokes on when he realizes that the door to Rob's office is open. He bolts for the door and glances down the hallway. No one's there. Breath explodes from his lungs.

Nabulungi winces. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's okay! Just...maybe save those jokes for when we're alone."

"I will." She kisses his cheek. After a moment, she says, "I think people will accept you, though, if you did tell them. Look at how well it went for—" she gestures to Rob's office, "—and you are a prophet! People will respect you no matter what."

"Sure, I'll tell people! Someday." Someday, in this case, means never.

Maybe Nabulungi knows this, but she doesn't say anything. She just gives him a small, kind smile, and kisses his cheek.

"Now," she says, "let us start with _Grease_."

* * *

><p>Slowly, the wedding takes shape. Or, rather, the poverty of their surroundings shapes it: between paying for gas to drive to Kampala for the marriage licence, paying for hostels along the way, and procuring enough food to feed the village and any other guests who might drop by, Arnold and Nabulungi can't justify spending on things like rings, dresses, cosplaying or honeymoons. Everyone insists they have some kind of honeymoon, though, so Nabulungi suggests a vacation: they'll take a week off and stay in her and Mafala's hut, while Mafala will stay with Kevin. Things seem to be going smoothly.<p>

Then, two unexpected complications pop up: goats and beer.

"At least we have enough medicine to trade for a goat for the wedding ceremony!" Gotswana comments at breakfast one morning.

"Oh, great!" Arnold beams. They haven't had meat in a while.

Gotswana glances between him and Nabulungi. "You _have _told him what happens with the goat, right?"

"I was getting around to it," she murmurs. When Gotswana leaves, she explains, "The goat is slaughtered at dawn on the day of the ceremony in front of the entire village. Everyone sings and celebrates. We get goat so rarely, you know."

"Okay." Arnold forces himself not to look too grossed out; this tradition is pretty tame. The goat needs to die for them to eat it, right? "Maybe I'll just stand at the back."

Nabulungi fiddles with her tie. "Traditionally the groom slits its throat."

"_What_?"

"Baba can kill it for our wedding," she says quickly. "It will not be a problem."

Arnold shakes his head. "I can do it! How hard can it be?" His mouth has gone completely dry.

Nabulungi rests her head on his shoulder. "I do not want you doing something that is not part of who you are."

"It'll be fine." His heart is thumping in his chest.

The beer is much more straightforward.

"So, best man," Mafala says to Kevin, "you'll be paying for the alcohol, since I am poor as shit, right?"

Kevin starts. "Mormons don't—" he begins, then shakes his head. "Uh, I didn't think there was going to be alcohol."

"You are fucking with me." Glancing between Arnold and Kevin, Mafala snorts. "I do not know how you have parties in Sal Tlay Ka Siti, but here, we have booze!"

An idea strikes Arnold. "Since one of our members has had a bad experience with alcoholism," he can see Kevin shaking his head out of the corner of his eye, "it only seems right to be sensitive..."

Unfortunately, Arnold is talking too loudly again; behind him, Brian Church dryly says, "Um, I know the difference between a wedding and hardcore alcoholism. Don't worry. You're not hurting my delicate feelings or anything." He seems determined to take anything anybody says to him the worst possible way.

"The Book of Arnold says only not to drink 'regularly and to excess,'" Mafala says. "And I believe Jesus turned water into wine for a wedding, right?"

Arnold glances at Kevin helplessly.

Kevin nods. "Sure. When we go to Kampala to get a marriage licence, I'll buy some beer." The words don't fit easily in his mouth. Arnold catches elders Davis and Michaels sending each other concerned glances.

He, Kevin and Nabulungi proselytize in Yunna that day. It turns out to be the day that Arnold's parents email him. It's another reminder of the world he left behind.

His mom writes:

_Dear Arnie,_

_Your latest email was a VERY BIG SURPRISE! BUT I am SOOOOO HAPPY that my BABY BOY has FOUND LOVE as I always PRAYED YOU WOULD! I've seen pics and videos of her on the website and the Youtube and she's VERY beautiful. I also received her email. She's SO articulate!_

_But I'm worried, sweetie pie. Your marriage won't be in Temple, so YOU WILL NOT BE TOGETHER IN THE AFTERLIFE. Heavenly Father will not think your married. IF you try to "be a husband" to her, you will be SINNING. I spoke to Sheila at church, and she sad a marriage in Africa isn't even LEGAL here. IF YOU TRULY LOVE Nabulungi, you MUST WAIT UNTIL YOU COME BACK HOME TO MARRY HER!_

_SATAN is using your and N's natural feelings TO TRICK YOU. HE is always hungry for souls, especially ONES AS PURE AND BEAUTIFUL AS YOURS! In your heart, you know this and I pray you heed Heavenly Father's wisdom altho I know it will be hard._

_EMAIL ME SOON ARNIEKINS! YOU are the most important thing IN THE WORLD TO US!_

_Love,_  
><em>Mom<em>

When he finishes reading, Arnold is grinning. _This is definitely not going as bad as I thought! _He clicks on his dad's email.

_Your mother prays for you every day and goes to bed sobbing, and I am sickened to my soul to see the man Satan has twisted you into...Reject the temptress and turn your thoughts to Heavenly Father and the light...Come home and we will welcome you as the prodigal son..._

_"My sons, remember, remember, that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation." (Hel. 5:12)_

Arnold stares at the screen, stunned. He reads Mom's email again, searching for a hint of what Dad just told him. He tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry.

"I am sick to my soul to see the man you are," Dad says—he sounds so terribly sad. "A man who lies, who makes daily mockery of his Heavenly Father, who fills his mind with trash, who dreams of fornication with men, who would marry a women only for lust..."

A hand squeezes his shoulder. It's Nabulungi, who murmurs, "Arnold?" Kevin sits beside him, hand outstretched, and Arnold takes it.

_I don't care what you think of me. I care what they think of me. I care what God thinks of me...and He loves me no matter what. _His thoughts don't stop some tears from falling from his eyes. Nabulungi kisses him—Kevin lets go of his hand and steps away, which gives Arnold his hand free to stroke her hair and her cheek.

He lets her read Dad's email. Her expression is sombre as she finishes it and says, "He obviously cares for you very deeply. Please, do not think too harshly about your father. He does not know the new Arnold, and because he does not know you, he is afraid for you."

Arnold manages to breathe more easily. She's right: Dad just doesn't understand the situation. He starts to feel a bit better, though he can't help but grumble, "Be nice if Dad could say 'I love you'..." A scary thought distracts him. "Oh, crap—did he reply to your email?"

A faint frown creases her brows. "No." She smiles. "Your mother did, though. She does not want me to marry you yet, but she seems to want to get to know me."

Kevin comes back from the cashier with a bottle of Coke. "So, how are things, buddy?" he says sympathetically.

"Good!" The turnaround obviously has Kevin confused. "Nabulungi helped." He kisses her cheek; Kevin looks away. "She's AWESOME at this sort of thing!"

Kevin smiles. "Well. Great. So, why don't we get back to some proselytizing, huh? Elder Davis was boasting that he's almost got a baptism lined up. Let's give him a run for his money!"

* * *

><p>That evening, Kevin pries Arnold away from Nabulungi for a moment to ask what he wants for his bachelor party.<p>

Arnold shrugs. "Just everybody together playing some boardgames. "

"You're sure you don't want anything else?"

"I wish I'd brought my D&D books," Arnold says, sighing wistfully.

Kevin looks stunned. "Elder Cunningham! Dungeons and Dragons is _Satanic_!"

"Dungeons and Dragons—Satan's game," says the voice of an 8-Bit Theatre spoof.

Arnold can't help but snicker as he slings his arm around Kevin's shoulder. "Buddy, let me tell you a little something about tabletop roleplaying..." As he talks, emphasizing how it's nothing more sinful than a group of people getting together for a movie, the wariness gradually fades from Kevin's expression.

"You sure know a lot about this," Kevin comments.

"I always dreamed I'd have friends to game with. Now I've got friends, but no gaming stuff. Oh well." Struck by an amazing idea, he pulls Kevin in close. "You and me and Nabulungi can get a Pathfinder game started when we get back to Salt Lake! WOULDN'T THAT BE AWESOME!"

"Um...sure!" Kevin obviously doesn't get it yet; Arnold will just have to help him see the light.

* * *

><p>At breakfast on the morning of his bachelor party, Nabulungi grins and says, "Elder Price has something for your bachelor party that you are going to love!"<p>

_Him naked? _Arnold thinks automatically, before shoving that thought to the depths of his brain. "Oh?"

"It's in your room!"

When he gets there, Kevin, beaming, hands him a three-ring binder. Inside, printed out in black and white, is the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game Bestiary. Arnold's heart soars—then stops. He flips to the back, but that's all there is. Kevin printed out the bestiary instead of the core rulebook.

"We can have a D&D bachelor party after all!" Kevin crows. "You should thank Nabulungi. She convinced me that pirating it was okay. After all, you've already paid for the books, and it really was the only way to get it here..."

"Elder Price, this is one of the nicest things anybody's ever done for me. Thank you so, _so _much!" Arnold gulps, steeling himself. "But...this isn't enough to play the game."

Kevin looks crestfallen. "Huh?"

'We just...need a lot more stuff than this."

"Like what?" Kevin asks, a sudden fire burning in his eyes.

"Well, a few more pages printed out from a few more books..."

"We can do that in Yunna. What else?"

"Dice."

"There's the board game dice."

"We need D20s and D4s as well—" at Kevin's worried frown, Arnold changes that to "—I can work with those. We'd also need miniatures."

"I can make some!" says Nabulungi.

"You aren't coming with us?" Arnold says, disappointed. They haven't been out of each other's sight all week, and it's been wonderful.

"I think you boys need some time alone. This is for your bachelor party, after all!"

"It's three hours there and three hours back," Kevin says. "Well, Elder Cunningham, looks like your bachelor party is going to be an all-nighter."

"You can make it there in two hours if you speed," Nabulungi suggests.

"We're not breaking the law!" Kevin sputters—and yet, they somehow manage to make it to Yunna in two-and-a-half hours.

Getting everything together takes almost three hours—Arnold leaves the logistics to Kevin and spends most of his time writing out a quick scenario. Nabulungi's miniatures consist of people made of sticks and seed-pods tied together with grass. Arnold's bachelor party starts close to midnight in the break room of the mission. Fortunately, they have enough Sprite and Fanta to keep everyone awake.

Arnold has all the characters meet in a tavern. Each player describes their characters—everybody lists gives their name, race, class and weapons. When Arnold says, "You can also describe what your character looks like, too," only Kevin plays along.

"Um, Mortlock has...brown eyes and brown hair and he's tall." _Oh, buddy, good try!_

Arnold's first setback as a GM comes when Eric shows way too much interest in the bartender Arnold off-handedly described as "disgruntled."

"Why's he disgruntled?" Eric asks.

"Do you ask him that in character?"

"Um...yes?"

Arnold reaches for the first voice he can find. "'Oh, good sir, me wife is sick with the flu.'"

"Is he supposed to be a pirate?" Rob asks.

Eric, examining his equipment list, pipes up with, "Oh! I have a healing potion! Can I give it to his wife?"

Rob objects. "Maybe he's just saying that so he can knock us out and drag us to his pirate ship."

Arnold quickly has the kingsguard burst in and deliver the group's quest for the adventure. They have to track down a thief who stole a magical tome from the Pathfinder Society archives. As they track the thief through the woods (with much help from Mafala's ranger's wolf), they're attacked by an army of kobolds. Arnold is using a quick homebrew system (_I'M SORRY PAIZO! _he wails internally) of him rolling a D6 against the player and determining the winner by whomever rolls the highest.

The game goes downhill when Elder Michaels interrupts their combat with, "Wait—if I roll badly, I don't get to play anymore?"

"I'm not killing anyone in our first game..."

"If there isn't danger, then where are the stakes?" Elder Davis asks. "Where's the tension? The drama?"

"Come on, I don't want to be mean..." But at their insistence, he starts reporting his die rolls fairly. Soon, elders Davis, Michaels, Church and Neeley, along with Gotswana and Ghali, are playing cards. Arnold suspects that not all of them were as truthful as he was.

The combat becomes even gorier, with everyone using up all their healing spells and potions. Gratifyingly, Eric and Rob get pretty into it, and high-five when they finally win the fight. Arnold had quite a few more encounters planned, but it looks like he'll have to edit this game a lot.

Eric, having figured out what "in-character" means, is not about to let it go: "because I'm Neutral Good," he insists they bury the bodies of their fallen friends and the kobolds as well.

"We are looking for the fucking book," says Mafala. "If you start digging, I will sic my wolf on you." After Eric's wounded, "Hey!" Mafala shrugs. "What? It is a game! Might as well try to win it and get that book."

"You can't just rule by force—that's not right," Eric complains. "In character, I challenge you for leadership of the group!"

Arnold nervously says, "Elder Thomas, you're a halfling and he's an elf with a wolf," but neither Eric nor Mafala listen, and they start their combat.

"I stop the fighting with my peace spell!" says Kevin over the clatter of dice.

"'Peace spell'?" Arnold grabs Kevin's character sheet and reads it over: Bane, Cause Fear, Cure Light Wounds... "You don't have a peace spell. You don't even have Command."

"It's magic, right? It can do anything. And aren't these games all about imagination, anyway? _Wouldn't _my character have a peace spell?"

In the time it takes Kevin to understand that you can't make up spells on the spot, Eric's character is dead, the actual Eric is glaring sullenly, and Mafala is ordering everyone else to find the book.

"Maybe Eric's just unconscious and the wolf is carrying him in its jaws," Arnold suggests.

Mafala shrugs. "Yeah, sure."

"I come up behind the elf and backstab him, which means he's surprised and can't retaliate for this round," Rob says, reading his character sheet. "Hurt my companion, will you?"

Mafala grins goodnaturedly. "Eat my wolf, dwarf!"

To Kevin, Arnold whispers, "Maybe you should loot the bodies of the kobolds."

Kevin recoils, grossed out. "You want me to steal from dead people?"

"Not people—kobolds! It's part of the fun."

"I'm a cleric! I'm Lawful Good! I'm not about to loot corpses!"

In the end, Mafala wins the fight, loots the bodies of the kobolds, and finds the book.

"Now we can get enough gold pieces to help the bar-tender's wife," Eric says cheerfully.

"Do you do this?" Arnold asks.

"Pirate!" Rob hisses to his companion, but Eric says, "Yes!"

"It turns out he is a pirate!" Arnold says, suddenly getting an idea for an ending. As Eric's face falls, Arnold adds, "And he's so grateful to you for helping with his sick wife, that he gives you a treasure map to the Dwarf King's gold!"

"Oh, cool!"

"Good game, Elder Cunningham!" says Rob. "I had a lot of fun."

"Me too!" adds Kevin, and though Arnold thinks he might be fibbing, he doesn't care. He pulls Kevin into a hug the second he can.

"You're the best friend anybody could ever have," he whispers.

"I'm just glad it all came together," Kevin says, chuckling.

As Eric and Rob leave, he catches a strange expression on Rob's face as he watches him and Kevin hug. It seems like pity. But then Rob turns away with a yawn and Arnold figures he's misinterpreting things again.

* * *

><p>On instructions from the villagers, Nabulungi brings a Book of Arnold with her to the cemetery to ward off ghosts. Arnold didn't speak out against their advice; this tradition doesn't hurt anyone, after all. She lays it beside them as she spreads out the blanket. They're not eating lunch in the cemetery, of course—that'd be creepy—but they're not far away.<p>

She lays out a mouthwatering spread: fried flat-bread, paw paws, mangos, and matoke in vegetable sauce.

"Wow! This looks really great! And you call yourself a bad cook."

"I had Elder Price's help with most of this," she admits. "We really have to find someone for that boy. He is quite a catch!"

"Why are you so interested in setting up Elder Price? And...well, everyone else?"

"I am so happy with you—I want everyone else to be happy, too! And the villagers can be so separate from you white boys sometimes. You still go about in pairs most of the time, you always stay at the mission... People might be interested in each other but not notice each other, you know?"

Arnold suddenly remembers Elder Thomas's request to date at the beginning of the month. "Elder Thomas is interested. We should set him up with someone!"

Nabulungi nods excitedly. "I will see what I can do. Though," she chuckles, "so far my matchmaking has not had much success. Poor Elder McKinley—the look on his face!" Arnold whoops with laughter as she giggles. "Not one of my better ideas," she concludes. After taking a few more bites of her matoke, she asks, "Would it bother you if Elder Price were with someone?"

"Heck, no. He's my best friend. I'd love to see him dating! I'm just not sure it's going to happen anytime soon."

"You seem very sure," Nabulungi notes. "I wondered if that was because you might be jealous."

"I'm not." She's really clever at emotional things. In fact, Arnold realizes, if anyone can help Kevin figure himself out, it'd be her. With a surge of excitement, he blurts out, "Actually, it's because he's asexual."

"Oh? I do not know the term."

"Not interested in sex at all."

Nabulungi looks surprised. "Is he sick?"

"He's not—or I don't think he is, anyway. He told me that he's just never felt like that before."

"Oh, he has not met the right woman," she says confidently. "Or man. But you should be the one to prod him on this. He will take it much better from you."

Arnold isn't quite sure that's how it works. _But I'm not the smart one about emotions, here. _"I'll see what I can do."

The village must have been more prosperous once: a few of the older headstones are granite or marble, but now the graves are marked with pieces of cardboard with names on it. Nabulungi leads him to a grave marked 'Abagebe Hatimbi.' Beside it are 'Motogusinile Hatimbi' and 'Chinoyazue Hatimbi.' Arnold hopes she doesn't expect him to have her family's names memorized; he'll try, but he can't guarantee anything.

"This is Mother," Nabulungi says, nodding to Abagebe's grave. "Moto died in the firefight; he was twelve. If you look closely at the south-facing wall of our home, you can still see where some of the blood hit. We tried to clean everything, but we could never manage that one spot. Chino..." She swallows, blinking back tears. "He died when he was just a baby, after Mother died bearing him. Baba said Mother missed him so much that she took him with her to Heaven."

She sniffles; Arnold puts his arm around her shoulder. Her voice is thick with emotion. "She was the best mother anyone could have. She was patient and kind and smart. If we had lived in Kampala, she would have had so many opportunities. She could have run a shop—no, she could have been a CEO! When I go to Sal Tlay Ka Siti, I will find a job worthy of her. I will make her—" a sob racks her body "—make her proud of me..."

_ARNOLD, DO SOMETHING! _His thoughts run in panicked circles as he hugs her and she buries her face in his shoulder. _What kind of husband can't even stop his wife from crying?_

"Calm down, silly!" says Pinkie Pie. "Don't be scared. Remember—_when I was a little filly and the sun was going down!_"

_NOT HELPING! _He cycles through a few fictional characters, but he can't come up with anything useful.

Nabulungi's sobs shudder her entire body. All Arnold has is one Kleenex; it's folded into a tiny square by the time they're forced to throw it away and she wipes her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her white dress shirt. Arnold looks at the graves, feeling guilty. _I'm sorry I'm taking her from you. _

She slowly relaxes and her sobs become sniffles. "I have not cried like this for years," she murmurs wetly. "But...it would be so lovely to have them at our wedding..." Her hands rest on his shoulders as she looks into his eyes. "Could you lie to me, please, Arnold? Tell me they are well and happy."

"Of course they are. And they'll be at our wedding, too."

"And you can never leave me, Arnold. God will not let you."

"Of course He won't. We're going to be together forever—in eternity, too, no matter where we get married."

"Thank you, prophet. My love. Thank you."

They turn back to look at the graves. For once, the fandom voices in Arnold's head are silent.


	14. Chapter 14

Slowly, people come to the Church of Arnold for its free medicine. They come in ones and twos, not the crowds that had been expected. They have leprosy, or Karposi's sarcoma lesions, or swollen growths, or racking coughs. They're the sickest of the sick, with nowhere else to go. In fact, Kevin hears of a small controversy where Gotswana was reluctant to give medicine to an emaciated, sore-encrusted beggar. "I convinced him to give the man what he would give anyone else," Mafala explains. It irritates Kevin that he only mentioned this to everyone after the fact. Their congregation still has some issues sharing information, it seems.

Kevin tries to pay attention to the new prospective members: to remember names, to remain humble when receiving praise, to reiterate that you don't have to join the Church of Arnold to get medicine or a hospital stay. But he's always near Arnold, who's always near Nabulungi; they'll kiss, or joke, or flirt with each other, leaving Kevin frantically ignoring the ache in his chest. He watches the villagers—Mafala, Gotswana, Effu, Sister Ameya—get more placements than he's gotten this past month. Even Nabulungi manages more, and she's planning a wedding at the same time.

He speaks his prayers to God out loud with Arnold every night: give us the wisdom to distribute our wealth wisely, keep bringing people so we can help them, let us serve them and show Your love and grace. Inside, he prays, _I'm doing what I can, God. Can't you reward me just a bit?_ _I'm not asking for a baptism, just a placement or two—something to show me I'm on the right path._

_I _am_ on the right path, aren't I?_

_I need to be patient_, he reminds himself. _I'll get better at turning it off the more practice I get. In a few weeks, I'll be fine._

On p-day, Kevin, Rob, Mafala, Arnold, Nabulungi and Gotswana start the drive into Kampala for the marriage licence. The Church of Arnold finally has enough money to get the maggots removed from Gotswana's scrotum.

On the second day of their journey, the blankets in the hotel rooms they rented are twitching with fleas.

"Shit," Nabulungi grumbles. "We'll have to stay in our jeeps." That means posting a watch "for lions. And hyenas. And hippos." Kevin smiles at Nabulungi's joke until she shudders and says, "They're some of the deadliest animals here."

They put mosquito netting over the tops of the jeeps. Kevin stretches out in the back, trying to sleep as Arnold keeps watch. Nabulungi sweet-talked her father into taking her shift with Arnold. Kevin has to endure torturous hours of conversation about how excited they are, how they love each other so much, what they think the ceremony is going to be like. The worst part is when they stop talking, and all he can hear are spit-swapping, panting and murmurs. Kevin wants to vomit.

_Turn it off. Arnold will stop being your friend if you don't turn it off. _His nausea gradually abates. Kevin begins to tune them out.

He can't tune out the lion's roar in the distance. He flinches so badly that Arnold says, "Hey, Elder Price." From his tone, Arnold doesn't think Kevin caught them making out. (In an effort to be a good best friend, Kevin never mentioned that he's an incredibly light sleeper so Arnold wouldn't feel self-conscious about his snoring.) Kevin definitely won't set the record straight.

Kevin grunts in greeting and sits up. The full moon is bright enough that he can see their silhouettes. "Do you think we should get moving?"

"No," says Nabulungi. "They are far enough away. There's a river in the north where they like to hunt. And, as the rest of the village would say, you two are a lucky charm against lions." She chuckles. "I still cannot believe that we got away with that one."

"It was pretty awesome," Arnold agrees. To Kevin, he says, "See, buddy—told you she's with me and not the prophet."

Kevin and Nabulungi both start at the same time. He can see Nabulungi turn her head to watch him, but it's too dark to see the expression on her face.

"You said that, Elder Price?" Nabulungi says, bewildered.

"OH!" Arnold yelps. Kevin hushes him, and he lowers his voice. "That's not what I meant. Elder Price just mentioned that your dad might be thinking that, back when Elder Hatimbi didn't want us to get married. Of course _he_ never said that—he just wanted to make sure I could see things from your dad's point of view. He was _very_ good at it. He made it so I never really got angry with your dad, even when he was being so mean to you and me."

Silence falls. A lion's roar breaks it a few times. Kevin tries to swallow, though his mouth is dry. He finally says, "Praise Christ that your father came to his senses and gave your marriage his blessing." After Nabulungi flatly repeats "Praise Christ," Kevin continues. "I've spent some time with him lately, and I've heard how sincerely remorseful he is for the pain he caused both of you."

"He just doesn't want to lose someone as awesome as you," Arnold says. He grabs Nabulungi's nearest hand in his own. "I can understand that."

Nabulungi fondly says, "We should keep track of those lions, my love." The next day, Kevin stays out of her way. He catches her eyeing him from time to time—she seems to look thoughtful, not angry, which means she's a better actor than he ever thought she was.

Kampala is a riot of crowds and colour after the small towns and villages they've been visiting—and a banquet of food. They stop to eat at McDonald's. Arnold moans ecstatically at his first bite of his quarter pounder, and Kevin admits he understands the feeling at the first taste of his salt-encrusted French fry. They eat intensely, and finish with soft gasps and appreciative murmurs. Kevin finds himself licking his fingers like he's six years old again, eager for every grain of salt and smear of ketchup.

"When I get back home, I am going to eat all junk food, all the time," Arnold announces; Rob and Kevin nod, Rob with the same glazed look in his eyes that Kevin probably has.

After lunch, Rob pulls out his list of the mundane things they need in the mission and the village. They make stops at a wide variety of stores, picking up everything from plastic bowls to party supplies, to bug spray and deodorant. Then they bring Gotswana to the hospital for his scheduled surgery. Gotswana sweats terribly as he waits.

After Gotswana makes Mafala swear he'll treat his corpse right so he won't come back as a ghost, Rob intervenes with, "Don't worry, Elder Hareffi! You'll be in our prayers—and the prayers of the prophet." After a moment's hesitation, he puts a hand on Gotswana's shoulder. "What could go wrong?"

Irritated, Gotswana glances at Rob's hand; Rob removes it a second later, jamming both his hands into his pockets.

"No offense, Elder McKinley," Gotswana grumbles, "but keep talking and, if I die, I will haunt _you_ especially."

Rob retreats, his cheeks pink.

Everyone prays as the surgery goes on. Kevin felt so sure that God existed when He brought Elder Cunningham back from the mission to get medicine; now, just days later, it's harder to believe. _What happened to me?_ Kevin reflects for the millionth time.

Five hours later, the doctor comes out and reports a success. Mafala volunteers to stay at the hospital to be there when Gotswana wakes up. Rob will take Nabulungi to stay with Effu Kimbay's parents and join Kevin and Arnold at the hostel later.

They check in; it doesn't look like the beds have fleas. Arnold immediately pulls out his journal and gets to work on his wedding vows. He's been so wrapped up in Nabulungi that he hasn't made any real effort.

After a few moments of staring at a blank page, Arnold says, "I'm not worried! I'll come up with something on the spot, like I always do." Despite how not-worried he is, he begins to look more and more so as the moments tick by.

"If you need some help..." Kevin forces himself to offer.

Arnold shakes his head. Randomly, he asks, "Hey, buddy, are you into anyone?"

The muscles on Kevin's back tense. He plays dumb. "Huh?"

"Like, romantically?"

There's something wriggling deep inside him, something spiky that sends little jolts of pain through him with each twitch. It makes it hard to think of anything to say; he watches Arnold, knowing he'll explain himself eventually.

"Because I remember from that website that asexuals can still have crushes and be in love and stuff. Being in love is the best thing ever! And when you find that, I just want to say go for it, and who cares about anything else. Okay?"

Kevin can only manage a very quiet, "Thanks." The word sounds rough, like it's scraping past all the words he really wants to say on its way out. Arnold, of course, doesn't notice.

Kevin tries to turn it off. But he can't help but flash back to Arnold in Mafala's jeep as the villagers drove him to what could be his death. He swore a blue streak then—screaming the worst words he knew to an empty, uncaring sky—and he feels like he's still swearing, deep inside, every single time he thinks of Arnold's wedding.

_I am_ not _thinking of Arnold Cunningham and love_, he vows.

Rob joins them an hour later. Kevin, in his undergarments, feels a sudden worry that Rob might check him out; fortunately, when Rob talks to him, his gaze always rests on Kevin's face. After a while to reflect, he concludes that it wouldn't be the end of the world of Rob did check him out. Kevin glances at his own body. His muscles have lost a lot of definition—Kevin exercises when he can, but having calories to burn is a luxury he doesn't usually have, and the heat saps a lot of his energy. His abs actually have a thin pad of fat over them.

_Too many Poptart breakfasts_, Kevin thinks dismally. _Maybe Rob isn't checking me out for a reason._

The next day, they sign the marriage licence. Gotswana can't be too high on painkillers for this—he sweats profusely, and his skin has a greyish tinge. Though Nabulungi and Arnold are gleeful and brimming with excitement, it's a rather dull affair. Spitefully, Kevin hopes his pen runs out of ink when he signs as a witness. It doesn't. Gotswana gulps down pills the second they're done and falls asleep in the jeep.

"So, Dad," says Arnold as they leave, "got any advice about marriage?"

Mafala smiles. "Ah, yes—happy wife, happy life."

Arnold tells Kevin later that he "wanted something more African-y. Like, a lion metaphor or something."

After that, they go pick up food for the wedding feast. The concept of whole stores—with air conditioning!—devoted solely to food feels a bit foreign.

Rob has a list of food from the villagers. He begins with unripe plantains, only to stop as Nabulungi shakes her head and hands him a bunch that's much riper.

"We are going to be eating these at the wedding feast. If they are not ripe enough, the dish does not work."

Rob chuckles as if she's said something quaint. "Well, not every bunch of plantains..."

Nabulungi looks blankly at him. "This is the list for the wedding feast, Elder McKinley."

Rob looks alarmed. Waving the list about, he says, "But the food on this list could feed the village for a week! We can't cook it all in one day! The fridge at the mission isn't big enough to hold all this!"

Gotswana, Mafala, and Nabulungi glance between each other, each checking to see if the other has some idea what Rob is talking about. When no one seems to, Gotswana says, "The fridge is a blessing—no wedding in our village has ever had one. We feast at the wedding, we eat what is still good the next day, and throw what rots to the jackals and beggars."

"You will be surprised how many people turn up for a wedding," Mafala says wryly. "Especially since, as you suggested, we have invited every prospective member of the Church of Arnold to celebrate with us." He smacks Rob on the shoulder companionably. "Do not worry so, Elder McKinley. It will work itself out."

Rob gapes at him for a moment, then weakly nods. As he manouevres his shopping cart past Kevin, he hisses, "Could you get our prophet on a verse about food preservation?"

"Might be a tough sell in places that don't get electricity," Kevin points out. When Rob puffs himself up for a lecture, Kevin quickly says, "I'll mention it."

He approaches Arnold and Nabulungi in the meat aisle. As usual, they're so wrapped up in each other that they don't notice anyone else. The back of Nabulungi's head obscurs Arnold's view of Kevin, but sometimes she moves and he can get a view of Arnold's face.

"We can _buy _goat meat here," Nabulungi is saying.

"Nabulungi, Dad's _counting_ on me..."

"Until you came here, Baba also believed you could have sex with a virgin and cure AIDS! Not every stupid tradition we have needs to be followed." She steps close to him, kissing his lips briefly. "You bring new ways of thinking. It is your gift."

Arnold is shaking his head, his expression worried. "Nabulungi...I can do this. It probably won't even be that bad."

"Baba is already proud of you, my love." She thought of that much faster than Kevin did—_she's good_, he thinks grumpily. "He told me so himself!"

"And he won't be proud of me if I don't kill the goat! Everyone'll laugh at me!" No matter how Nabulungi tries to dissuade him, Arnold won't believe anything else.

Nabulungi grabs his hands. "You are a gentle soul, Arnold—"

Kevin perks up at Arnold's angry frown. "Maybe I'm not so gentle. Maybe I'm _badass_." He spoils the effect by shifting his weight nervously after swearing.

A shopping cart bumps into the back of Kevin's legs. Kevin realizes he unconsciously slipped behind the soup and spices aisle to better hear the conversation without being spotted—and he happens to be blocking Rob, who's staring at him with arms crossed, looking deeply disappointed.

Kevin's face burns. He quickly steps out from behind the aisle. Arnold stops whatever he was saying abruptly when he sees Kevin. Then he blurts out, "OH, HI, BUDDY!"

Kevin clears his throat. "Sorry to interrupt. I need to talk to you, Elder Cunningham."

With strained politeness, Nabulungi says, "I am talking to my husband, Elder Price. Can you wait?"

"We can talk!" Arnold says quickly, hurrying to Kevin's side. As Nabulungi rolls her eyes, Kevin tries to smother a grin, but he's not quite successful.

Arnold spoils Kevin's mood by turning an apologetic expression to Nabulungi. "We'll talk later, okay, honey?"

Nabulungi nods, the hard lines of her face softening. "Okay, Arnold."

"So, what'd you want to talk about?" Arnold asks.

Kevin has completely forgotten. "I, uh, need some help carrying the beer to the jeeps." They buy a few cases of beer; Kevin eyes the cases like they're full of poisonous snakes.

They get back to the village to cheers and whoops. The women of the village practically lift Nabulungi out of the jeep, singing an up-tempo song in Swahili. Arnold tries to go after her, but Mafala holds him by the arm.

"Not until the ceremony, prophet," Mafala says sternly. Arnold gulps and nods.

The ceremony starts at dawn the next day, with the goat. The entire village gathers in the centre, clapping, cheering and singing as Elder Ghali leads a goat toward Arnold. It's a female goat, bright white, with yellow eyes and black oval pupils. Arnold goes pale. Kevin squeezes Arnold's shoulder, but he doesn't seem to feel it.

He steps forward and takes the knife from Mafala. It gleams in the first rays of dawn. Arnold stares at it as if he can't quite figure out what it is. Elder Ghali leads the goat toward him. After a moment, Arnold shakes himself, puts one leg on either side of the goat, and grips it between his legs. The goat bleats, wriggling in discomfort. Elder Ghali leaves the circle. Arnold is alone.

As Arnold explained it to Kevin, he has to grab the goat's horns, expose its throat, then slice the knife across it. He can't move. Kevin squirms in discomfort. The volume of the chanting and clapping falls as the sun continues to rise and Arnold doesn't bring the knife down.

"Wait!" shouts Nabulungi, striding into the circle as if she owns it. There are displeased mutters at this. Mafala can't even look at his daughter; he stares at his feet.

Nabulungi raises her arms. "God has spoken to me, the wife of the prophet! He says this goat is good and holy, and shall not be killed! As the goat prospers, so shall the village."

A few villagers are nodding—but only a few. Arnold's face bursts into a smile as a deep red sunrise soaks the sky behind him.

"YES!" He lets the goat go, grabbing it by the rope tied around its neck, and drops the knife. "And she shall be called Emma Frost—the White Queen! For did not Jesus have a pet goat named Spot, for to let his disciples know that worth can be found in even the lowliest of creatures?" At the confused silence, he adds, "WELL, HE DID!"

When Arnold glances his way, Kevin says, "Oh—yes. I remember that part now." That seems to be all the congregation needs, though many of the non-believers murmur to each other with grave faces.

Arnold and Nabulungi rush together, kissing, then talking hurriedly over each other. Kevin tries to leave, but Arnold is heading in his direction and there's too big a crowd to make a quick getaway.

"I'm not a badass, I'm not a badass, I'm not a badass," Arnold is murmuring as he kisses his wife. He glances down at the goat. "My dog Mouse is pure white, just like Emma!" he exclaims, shaking his head at what he'd almost done. To Nabulungi, he says, "You're amazing. And," he turns to Kevin, "thanks for the assist, pal!"

"No problem, buddy."

The rest of the morning and afternoon is quiet. The women have been cooking the food the wedding party brought back from Kampala since last night—now smells of spices and fruit and fish and nuts serenade the village. People from outside the village start coming in: Amikaa from the orphanage, some of the placements the church has made, people Kevin has seen at the market, old Themba and the two young men who help her get around. As he helps set up tables and chairs, Kevin mingles, particularly with the three lepers, who few villagers go near. Rob lays out tablecloths and chair covers (Sister Ameya's blankets), puts out the centrepieces (fake pink and yellow dollar-store flowers), and distributes wedding favours (random chocolate bars). Kevin then goes back to the mission to check on Arnold, who's sitting on his bed, his suit jacket tossed on the floor, writing frantically in his journal.

Sighing, Kevin picks up Arnold's jacket and starts dusting it off. "The vows seem to be going well."

Arnold beams at him as Kevin hangs Arnold's jacket up. "I just had a great thought! It's about the cemetery!"

Kevin starts. "Um, buddy, not sure that's where you should be going with this..."

"No, no—it's fine!" Though Kevin tries, he can't get much more out of Arnold than that.

The ceremony starts at five. Eric, the unofficial cameraman, has Arnold's video-camera rolling. Mafala and Nabulungi walk down the aisle, Mafala wearing the same navy blue jacket he wore during the villagers' play for the mission president, Nabulungi wearing a sleeveless, shoulderless dress made mostly of mosquito netting. It floats in the air, sometimes showing much more of her legs than is proper. Arnold murmurs "Woah," underneath his breath.

Mutumbo wasn't anyone's first choice of officiate, but Elder Ghali is too shy for public speaking and Gotswana declined as he's still taking pain medication for his surgery. "We are here today to celebrate the marriage of the motherfucking prophet of Heavenly Father, Arnold Cunningham, to the sexiest girl in our village, Nabulungi Hatimbi. If any of you cunts object, prepare your ass to be kicked. Any objections?"

There are none. Next come the vows.

"Arnold, when you first arrived, you spoke of Sal Tlay Ka Siti. It reminded me of what my mother told me—there was a beautiful, peaceful place somewhere far from here. I had many grand dreams of this place and what it would be like. Then, I learned that this place did not exist. What I had thought was real was actually a metaphor. But, Arnold, it seems you have lied to me again: this beautiful, magical paradise does exist. I have found it in your heart, and I will never leave it."

"When we first talked about getting married, I had tons of ideas. We were gonna have a _Lord of the Rings-_style wedding. Then, I thought we'd get married in Klingon, or do a wedding like the medal scene in _A New Hope_. When it turned out we didn't have the budget for anything fancy, I was kinda disappointed. But then I thought some more about it, and I wasn't. 'Cuz being a nerd is a big part of my life, sure, but what's more important than anything is you. And this wedding is perfect just the way it is, because you're perfect."

Mutumbo then reads over the rest of the ceremony Kevin had prepared: the verse from Moroni about perfect love casting out fear; about how Jesus taught the Nephites to love and so paved the way for the perfect union between "two people" (Kevin only realized he should cross out "man and woman" at the last minute). Just as it's building to the end—Kevin hopes Arnold will appreciate the reference to "a love stronger than Joseph Smith and Princess Leia's"—Mutumbo snorts and tosses his cue cards on the ground.

"Oh, fuck this. They're married. Kiss and let's celebrate this shit!"

Cheers of "LL&P!" and "Praise Christ!" come from the congregation. Everyone sits for their meal. Food is served. Every garden in the village has been stripped, every egg cracked and spare chicken killed. Rob might've been right to worry about how much food is going to be wasted. Kevin, at least, isn't going to waste much—all he can do is pick at his food. He has to give a speech.

_A speech about Arnold and love_, the ugly voice in his mind mocks. It cackles like Judge Frollo or Cruella de Vil. Kevin imagines his mother's reaction if she knew about that voice. She'd cry, probably. His dad would pray for his soul.

When the time for his speech comes, Kevin sets a friendly Mormon missionary smile on his face. His speech is generic and short. They're good for each other. They make each other so happy. He wishes them a long and happy life together, and a love that will laste through eternity. Arnold gives him a short hug when he finishes; Nabulungi squeezes his hand. He doesn't really listen to Mafala's speech, though it makes Nabulungi, and a few other villagers, cry. Arnold shakes his father-in-law's hand when Mafala is done, his expression very serious. Kevin is quick to help remove the plates from the table, though Arnold insists he doesn't have to do that.

Arnold and Nabulungi's first dance is "All I Ask of You" which is, according to Rob, "from one of Webber's best musicals!" Arnold steps on Nabulungi's feet for most of it, but neither appear to care. Next, Nabulungi dances with her father to a slow, mournful-sounding Swahili song. After that, the dance floor is free. Kevin notices Nabulungi talking to Effu, who seems to be arguing with her. They both glance at Kevin, then continue their argument until finally Effu throws up her hands. Nabulungi darts over to Eric Thomas, grabs him for a dance, then bumps into Effu on the way off the dance floor. As Eric and Effu start talking, Nabulungi goes back to Arnold's side, looking pleased with herself.

Of course, she and Arnold start kissing. Kevin finds himself leaving his seat and going over to the buffet tables.

"No goat and now lepers at a wedding," a village man is saying to another as Kevin passes by. "No wedding has ever been so cursed!" _I hear you, guys._

At the far end of the buffet tables are the cases of beer. Kevin feels all eyes are on him as he approaches. Glancing about, he sees that nobody is watching him—except Heavenly Father. Kevin glances upward, gulping.

_Just half a cup_, he promises himself. _Why the heck_—_hell_—_not? I'm Kevin Price! I can handle it! _

Kevin pours half a cup and takes a tiny sip. He nearly spits it back out. When the searing taste finally fades, he chuckles. _Well, I'm certainly not going to get drunk off something that tastes this gross! Nothing to worry about._ He gingerly sips from his cup until it's gone.

Then Boney M's "Rasputin" comes on—one of the few 1970s songs he knows—and Kevin goes onto the dance floor, along with all the ex-Mormons except for Brian Church. The dance floor is full of ex-Mormons trying and mostly failing to do Russian dance moves. Most of the other wedding guests clap to the beat; Effu has even grabbed Arnold's video-camera and is filming them.

By the time they're done, Kevin is sweaty and thirsty but beaming. He can't quite remember why he felt so down about this wedding. When Mutumbo offers him a full bottle of beer, Kevin shrugs and takes it. His tongue becomes numbed to the taste surprisingly quickly. When the bottle is half gone, Kevin finds himself inspired by Heavenly Father in a way he hasn't been in a long time. He's been making this whole God thing far too complicated. What better place than a wedding to do a little proselytizing?

"Hello! I'd like to share with you a really amazing book..."

Eric and Effu Kimbay, standing by the dessert table, stare at him. After a moment, Eric says, "Yes, Elder Price—we know."

"That is _awesome_," Kevin says gleefully.

Effu leans against Eric as she laughs from deep in her belly. Eric's face goes bright red.

The villagers keep checking in on him after that. They laugh at his jokes—though he must be funnier than he thinks he is, because sometimes they laugh when he's talking about serious things like God and Joseph Smith. He takes another beer when Mutumbo offers it; unfortunately, he sets it down to tell Themba just how Nehor slew Gideon, and when he tries to drink from it, it's vanished, and Nabulungi is hissing something to Mutumbo and glaring at him.

"Heeeeeey, pal!" says Arnold, handing him a plate of rolls and dipping sauces. "Heard you might need some food!"

The gesture makes Kevin so warm and bubbly that he can't speak. He grabs Arnold in a tight hug. Someone knocks over the plate, spilling food onto the ground.

"You are _incredible_!" Kevin tells Arnold. "You're—you're...better than Orlando!" He rubs Arnold's head as the boombox goes quiet as Rob switches CDs. "I LOVE YOUR HAIR!"

The villagers can't seem to stop laughing at something; he'll ask Effu to tell him the joke later.

Arnold pats his back. "Ditto, buddy, ditto... You know what'd be awesome? If you ate something..."

"Anything for you, buddy!" He isn't really hungry, but he gulps down whatever Arnold sets in front of him. He drinks a Coke that Nabulungi hands him, which, after beer, tastes far too sweet.

"Oh, enough, you two," Rob tells them, shooing Arnold and Nabulungi off. "Go! Have fun! I'll take care of him!"

"How are you feeling now, Elder Price?" asks Mutumbo, chuckling.

"I can't feel my fingers," Kevin says. When some of the villagers chuckle, he grins along with them. "I feel numb. Which is...well," he glances in the direction of Arnold and Nabulungi, "it's good."

"_Oooo_kay, Elder Price," says Rob, "I think I'll take you back now..." When Kevin can't follow him, Rob grabs his hand and pulls him along.

As they leave, Effu Kimbay shouts, "Have _fun_, Elder McKinley!" to the laughter of many others, including Eric Thomas, who's standing quite close to her. Rob chuckles, then gestures Eric close to him. Looking curious, Eric comes over.

"Hey, companion," Rob says, "maybe you could walk Elder Price back?"

Eric looks surprised. "You're not worried about what Sister Kimbay said, are you? Rob, c'mon—it was a joke. Nobody seriously thinks you'd do anything. Lighten up!"

"Yeah." Rob laughs. "You're right. Okay, drama-queen moment over. See you soon, Eric." Rob's smile drops the instant he turns away from Eric.

As they walk back, Kevin shares some of his thoughts about the church with Rob. "We're a lot more Mormon than Arnold likes to think. Mostly because he doesn't really understand Mormonism. Original sin—my dad's kinda old-fashioned on that one, and I guess I am too—but most Mormons don't really believe it, and neither do we! The Church of Arnold doesn't have priesthoods and ordinances—I kind of miss those. We should bring those back, right? They make you feel special. You and me—we should bring them back!"

"Yeah, I'll get right on that."

"And God! Our God is pretty much the same as the Mormon God! Really, He is! We need to talk more about God in the Book of Arnold. Start with the basics. Remember what the prophet...um, the old prophet, not the new one...remember what he said? 'Because whenever did a tree or anything spring into existence without a progenitor?' So we need to figure out whether God came from nothing or was..." a hundred words crash through his brain, but all that comes out is, "a tree!"

Rob turns his head away, shoulders shaking. "That's something to think about!"

"Arnold doesn't like to think about the past or the future. He says, 'Oh, buddy, people need stories for today!' But I'm trying to get a coherent mythology out of...frankly, it's a mess!" He frowns. "No, that's mean. But one person with one question could send it all crashing down. He's the one who talks about world-building—for all his shows and books. We're trying to world-build here, too."

"Sounds like something to bring up with Elder Cunningham, isn't it?"

"Nah, I can't talk to him. And we also need to figure out if God is omnipotent. Stuff like this is important!" He goes on to list the attributes of God, drawing on every scrap of knowledge he possesses. Rob listens attentively, saying "Mmhmm," and "Yeah, sure," every so often.

Suddenly, Rob says, "Oh thank God, the mission! C'mon, Elder Price, race you!" He takes off at a run. Kevin never turns down a challenge; he runs after Rob, but somehow manages to wind up at the side of the mission instead of at the mission door, where he wanted to go.

"Over here, Kevin," Rob sing-songs. Kevin glares at Rob, who doesn't seem to feel a twinge of guilt, even though he must have cheated, because Kevin Price _never_ loses.

Once they're inside, Rob goes to the fridge and hands him a bottle of water. "Drink up! And I'll put a bucket by your bed. Hmm...two, probably, since Elder Hatimbi is staying with you."

"You're good at taking care of people," Kevin remarks after he takes a sip.

"Oh, thank you! Well, it's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

This bottle is defective—Kevin takes another sip, but some water spills onto his shirt. He glowers at the stain. "Rob?"

"Yes, Elder Price?"

"Do you _like _me?"

"I like everyone here. I'm blessed to be part of a great team."

"But do you like _me_? We haven't hung out in...forever."

Rob slowly exhales. "You're right." He's silent for a moment, then adds, "That's my fault. I'll try to be better at it, but I...might not be able to for a while." He grins suddenly. "But when I am, oh brother, I am going to kick your keister at 'Name that Verse'! You are looking at," he gestures grandly to himself, "the McKinley household champion since grade six!"

Kevin snorts. "I'm the champion since grade two! You're going down!" He takes a long sip of water. "You know what the church should work on next?"

Rob rolls his eyes. "I'm all ears, Elder Price."

"Awesome!" Kevin grins back. "We should do some editing. A definitive Book of Arnold! I mean, I love him, but Arnold's really just a moment to moment— oh. Oh. Oh, shit."

"Hmm?"

Kevin's mouth has gone dry. "I promised I'd never say about love—and him... Fuck!"

Rob smiles slightly. "Pretty silly, promising yourself that you'd never say you love your best friend."

"That's not what I meant!" Kevin lunges for Rob and grabs his shoulder. He has to understand. "You can't tell him, Elder Rob! You can't. You can't! Please." He hears water falling—seems his water bottle fell over somehow.

"I won't." Rob's voice is calm and strong. "Whatever dark, deadly secret you think you have is safe with me."

"He has his _stupid_ wife now. She can't even peel a yam. They eat yams every day here! She keeps hacking away." He frowns, realizing what he's just said. "Shit, I didn't want anger to rule my heart. Um, don't tell him I said _that_, either. Please."

"He won't hear one word from me."

Since he's close, Kevin gives Rob a hug. Rob pats him on the back, chuckling for some reason. "You're awesome," Kevin tells him. "You're the coolest, organizedest, greatest district leader. And when you go back home and dance on Broadway, you're going to be great there, too."

Rob pulls out of the hug. "Actually, I want to be an English teacher. But speaking of dancing, I'd like to get back to it! You know which one your room is?" he teases.

"The one without _him_," Kevin says, frowning.

Rob's hand rests lightly on Kevin's shoulder. "Oh, cheer up, Gloomy Gus! He'll be back before you know it."

"And I can keep turning it off again." The thought of it doesn't hurt as much now as it did earlier in the day. "I think this alcohol stuff is really helping!"

Rob sighs. "Let's look into some _alternative _methods of dealing with your feelings first, shall we?" He looks like he's going to say something, then stops himself and says, "My door is always open if you'd like to talk. And now! I bid you adieu. Get some sleep, Elder Price."

Kevin watches him go to the door, his thoughts churning. "Rob?"

Rob, his hand on the doorknob, turns back to him. "Yes?"

"Do you think we can do this? All of us, here, spreading the Book of Arnold?"

"Yes, Elder Price, I do." He turns back.

"Rob?"

"_Yeeees_?"

"What's it like? Being gay?"

Rob gives him a look he can't decipher. "Ask me when you're sober, Kevin."

"I am sober! I only had half a cup!"

Shaking his head, Rob leaves.

Kevin manages to find his bed and fall asleep. He wakes up the next morning ready to feel terrible, but he doesn't feel too bad. He's groggy, but no more so than after a night of hard exam studying. Then he remembers what he said last night.

He bolts upright, eyes snapping open. He gets dressed and carefully sprays and combs his hair, but he's all thumbs and it takes twice as long as it usually does. After checking on Mafala, who snores just as loudly as Arnold, he puts on his best Mormon missionary smile and heads out the door.

Rob and the other ex-Mormons are in the kitchen; he's setting out jugs of milk for the breakfast rush. "Hello, Elder Price."

As one—they've obviously planned this—all the elders except Rob show off their Books of Arnold.

"Just wanted to let you know we have a copy of the Book of Arnold, Elder Price," Eric Thomas says. When the ex-Mormons can't keep their faces straight anymore, Kevin laughs right along with them.

"Good one, guys! Can we chat for a sec, Elder McKinley?" Kevin asks.

"Of course." They retire to Rob's office. As usual, Rob doesn't look like he's slept much. He hasn't slept well since their session of helping Kevin turn it off. Kevin feels a kick of guilt in his stomach. _He tried to help me and look how I repaid him._

"Elder McKinley, if I said anything at all that might've offended you, I apologize."

"You didn't," Rob replies, and he seems sincere. "And if you did, I wouldn't hold what you said while drunk against you. You weren't in your right mind. As far as I'm concerned, last night's conversation didn't even happen."

"Oh." This is exactly what Kevin wanted—except now that he has it, he realizes he doesn't. He wants a Rob who slyly hints, who looks smug and knowing, so Kevin can refute him. Kevin can't bring anything up himself; that implies he was thinking about what he said last night, and why would he think about something that meant nothing?

"Thank you, Elder McKinley."

Rob gives him a polite, distant smile as they leave his office.


	15. Chapter 15

Arnold and Nabulungi don't come for breakfast that morning. Gotswana chuckles and notes, "I would be surprised if they left for lunch!" Kevin wasn't expecting to see much of Arnold during his honeymoon week; he's going to take advantage of this to really shape up. He goes for a jog before his morning shower, running from the mission to the village and back.

Kevin and Mafala go to the village of Umar that day. It's as small as Kigali, and the people are much more accepting than those of Yunna. Mafala is far too hungover to do much good; Kevin is happy to be the star of the show (_The way I'm supposed to be_, Kevin thinks, before remembering to be humble). It's all very intro stuff. Kevin can do this in his sleep.

Blind Themba, being led by one of her grandsons, flags him down once he returns to Kigali. "Elder Price?"

"Yes?"

"Would you have some time to speak about the Book of Arnold before we leave?" Themba says. Kevin notes that one grandson is anxious, the other alert. "My grandsons try to read, but they do not know English very well."

_Pretty hard to turn pages if you don't have fingers_, Kevin notes, just managing not to glance at the young men's mangled hands.

What Kevin wants to do is wash some of the sweat off and put some calomine lotion on his bug-bites, but he nods and says, "Sure." He glances around, but Mafala is walking over to the café. Looks like it's just him.

"Mind if we sit down?" Kevin asks, nodding to the café.

After one of her grandsons explains Kevin's motion—Kevin winces; he'll have to remember she's blind—she says "Oh, we do not want to impose."

"How about we talk at the mission?" Kevin notices that the anxious grandson has only gotten more anxious, while the alert one is frowning at Kevin as if he's said something tasteless.

"No, thank you. If you want a place to sit, we have a small place outside of town..."

Their place is a lean-to of a dingy, moth-eaten blanket supported by four sticks. Kevin gapes at it.

"I'm going to talk with my friend Elder Hatimbi. We'll set you up someplace better than this."

"This is fine for us," Themba says peaceably. "Now," her voice sharpens, "Elder Price, I must say I do not remember any of these stories in Sunday school."

"That's because they're from the Book of Arnold, revealed to our prophet, Elder Cunningham, after the Bible was written," Kevin answers quickly, his pulse thudding in excitement. Talking to Christians is different than talking to agnostics or people who hate God.

Themba sits on her cushion of newspapers and stretches out. "Hmm. Well, 'many false prophets are gone out into the world.'"

_John 4:1. Good one. _Kevin grins.

He definitely doesn't get any conversions that day. For all that Themba is attentive (dangerously attentive—she quickly rips apart the "our church is inspired by the Bible" line with a few choice verses) her grandsons are anything but. Gradually, the conversation shifts to more personal topics. Kevin gets the sense that these young men aren't her real grandsons; it's just a term of affection she uses for them.

"How'd you wind up here?" Kevin asks.

"Lepers were being burnt."

Kevin thought he'd heard it all. His stomach tightens. "Burnt?"

Themba shrugs. "It happens every few years. Crops fail or drought hits, so it is probably the lepers' fault. It is not so terrible. God's love gets me through. And no leper is ever raped! Only way a woman can travel alone in these sad times."

Thinking about his grandmothers back home, a lump rises in Kevin's throat. He glances at his watch, realizing he's spent a whole hour with them.

"Oh, heck, I've got dinner prep soon. Why don't you come on back to the mission with me? We can set you up there until Mafala can find a place for you—"

"There _is_ no place for lepers," snaps Zareb, the grandson who seems constantly angry with Kevin.

"We are fine here, Elder Price," Themba says.

After his meeting with Themba, Kevin does what he hasn't done in months: write in his journal. He's due to send another email home; it'd be good to catalogue some of his better experiences.

_Sorry for my lack of entries. I suppose everything was going so well for a while that I didn't want to examine it too closely. Like it was a dream and if I realized it was a dream, I'd wake up. That stops now._

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_To grow this church, we need to stick to the rural villages_. _Mafala mentioned that a few Yunna-ites follow sci-fi and called him on his references. M played off those Star Wars (Trek?) movies as interpretations of the Book of Arnold. Doesn't think he succeeded. Not a problem where people don't have TVs._

_Opportunities for growth and connection can be found at any time, not just during proselytizing hours. Good reminder of this today. Themba really put me through my paces! Very clever._

_We should get a Swahili version of the BoA started._

Kevin is in the kitchen when whistling and applause rings out from the dining hall. He pops his head out to see Arnold and Nabulungi walking to the ex-Mormons' table, holding hands.

"You assholes better let us sleep through the night this time!" shouts Mutumbo.

"We thought hyenas were attacking the village!" says Effu. Arnold's face has gone quite pink, but he's grinning.

"Shut up!" Nabulungi shouts back, giggling."You're all just jealous that you're not getting fucked like I am!"

"Jealous?" says Mutumbo. "Your husband can't even remember your name!"

"Noctowl—give it to me, baby!" imitates Effu, who then doubles over, cackling.

"Oh, yes, Nyarlathotep, oh, oh, ohhh!"

Mafala says, "Shut the fuck up, all of you!" For the most part, the villagers obey.

Nabulungi kisses her father on the cheek and brightly says, "How was proselytizing today, Baba?"

Mafala glowers at Arnold, who glances away and clears his throat—then, amazingly, looks back at Mafala and gives a small _So?_ shrug. Mafala looks Arnold over and snorts, but the irritation fades from his expression. It's not replaced by any positive emotion, but it seems like Arnold is going to take what he can get.

Dinner starts. Themba and her grandsons aren't here. Kevin frowns. Where are they eating? _What_ are they eating?

"Eat up, you two!" Sister Damisi calls out to Arnold and Nabulungi. "You need your strength!"

There are some snickers and giggles from the villagers—and the ex-Mormons, too.

The General teases, "Strange, how our prophet could not find what God calls such a holy sacred thing."

Arnold frowns, blushing, as some of his friends chuckle at him. Nabulungi smirks and opens her mouth, but Gotswana speaks louder than she does.

"At least she has a clit! She's one of the few girls in the village lucky enough to have one!" He might be thinking about his own daughter, who he was going to circumcise before Arnold showed him another way. "You," he points at the General, "do not get to fucking joke about that."

Dinner is much more awkward after that.

Arnold catches Kevin in the hallway to their bedroom. Kevin feels like beaming. _Is it normal for a best friend to feel this relieved that a friend is talking to him?_

"Hey, buddy," says Arnold. "How're you doing after last night?"

"Good. The food must've helped, so thanks for that. How was the rest of the party after I left?"

"It was cool," Arnold says dismissively. Kevin thinks that's odd until Arnold's eyes gleam and he says, "_After_ the party was great, too! I was pretty ner—"

Kevin's back muscles go taut; he holds up a hand and, mercifully, Arnold stops talking about that.

"Oh—boundaries, right." A bit hurt, Arnold adds, "I wasn't gonna give you a play-by-play or anything..."

Kevin would love to believe his best friend, but he once sat through Arnold's twenty-minute 'overview' of _Lord of the Rings_. "As far as I'm concerned, you two are...playing chess. Okay, pal?"

Even as Arnold nods in agreement, he blurts out, "_AWESOME_ CHESS!" Kevin feels well within his rights to glare. Arnold winces. "Sorry! Sorry! That was the last thing, I _swear_..."

The next day is the orphanage for everyone except Kevin, as it's his day to help out at the hospital, which inevitably means hours of boredom. At least he has some things to keep him occupied: there are a few patients in the hospital, and Gotswana sometimes needs volunteers; and Themba, Zareb and Daktari are still here with more questions about the Book of Arnold. To Kevin's dismay, they refuse all offers to bring them further into the village than the hospital; when he mentions their poor housing to Mafala, he gets a sigh and a curt, "Who has space enough for three more people in this village?" which Kevin has to admit is a fair point.

That night, he writes:

_Dear Mom and Dad, _

_Not every incredible thing changes the world, or even a life. But even the smallest flame makes the darkness that much less._

_I'm going to build them a house._

That's easier written than done, particularly after a long day of proselytizing and follow-up sessions. But Kevin is going to follow through; he grabs two buckets, loads them with water, and walks to Themba and her family. When he arrives, Themba is sleeping; Zareb and Daktari eye him curiously.

"Just thought about making a small mud hut," Kevin says. "You know, for visitors."

"Need shit, white boy," Daktari explains. "Shit and..." he pauses to think of the English words, "dry palm leaf and thick river mud."

Zareb glowers at his brother. "Shut up!"

Kevin glances between the two young men, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Make a house, sure, but we not live in house. We leave soon. We _always_ leave."

"You don't have to leave. The Church of Arnold is different. You're welcome here!"

Zareb snorts. "Then why you make house? Why not rest of village, like always?"

Kevin curses mentally—why didn't he think about what this looked like? He wrestles with his pride and finally says, "I, uh, didn't ask anybody else. I just figured I could build it on my own."

Zareb's jaw drops, then he bursts into laughter, his brother joining in. "Crazy white boy!"

_I totally could!_ But he's already incredibly hot and thirsty from just carrying the buckets of water. He got this water from the stream, not the mission's pump; it definitely isn't drinkable. "Maybe we should talk about this in the café," Kevin suggests.

The two of them demur, despite his entreaties to join. He makes one request too many—Zareb snaps, "No one has lepers where they eat, Elder Price! Even in your Church of Arnold."

Kevin opens his mouth to argue, then closes it. _You can lead a horse to water..._ _Maybe once they see all the villagers helping with a new home, they'll accept that we're going to treat them normally. _

"Well," Kevin says, "I could use a drink. Can I pick you up anything?" They could always use more water.

Arnold and Nabulungi are in the café. Arnold is writing furiously; Nabulungi sits in his lap, reading what he writes; sometimes she whispers into his ear, which makes him erase a line and start over. Arnold notices him, but only gives a quick, distracted nod. Soreness spreads through Kevin's chest. This is just the start.

He picks up three bottled waters and some peanuts along with a mocha frappaccino. As he waits, he hears, "Hey, buddy! What's up?" The words are mana from heaven.

He grins—a bit too broadly, he realizes when Nabulungi focuses her attention fully on him.

"What are you working on?" Kevin asks.

"Oh, some of the guys from the _Star Wars_ fic comm donated to the church, and I promised 'em some drabbles."

"They're..." Nabulungi fumbles, "what did you say, Arnold? Han/Luke slash?"

Arnold's head snaps up. He eyes Kevin nervously for a moment, then says, "You have no idea what any of this means, right?"

"_Star Wars_ is the 'Luke, I am your father' one, right?"

Arnold whoops with laughter. "That's it exactly!"

He doesn't seem to want to continue explaining, so Kevin has to ask, "What's a drabble?"

Arnold explains drabbles, fanfic, and slash—"Slash means stories that focus on character friendships; in this case, the friendship between Han and Luke."

"I'd love to read it sometime."

"No!" Kevin blinks in surprise at Arnold's reaction. "It's just...it's not ready yet."

_Of course_, Nabulungi _gets to read it before it's_—Kevin cuts that thought off with an image of his father turning away from him. _This is a good thing: Arnold is learning that not everybody needs to hear every nerdy thing he's doing. _

Effu tells him that his frappaccino is ready. When Kevin turns back, frappaccino in hand, he sees Arnold and Nabulungi having a quiet argument. It's not particularly heated, not with Nabulungi stroking Arnold's hand and him kissing her cheek every so often, but it's enough to make Kevin perk up. Nabulungi excuses herself to go to the washroom, and once she's gone Kevin asks, "Everything okay?"

Arnold looks surprised, then awkwardly says, "Um, boundaries, buddy."

Kevin's cheeks grow warm. "Just thought I could...help," he mutters. _No, I didn't._ It takes him far longer than it should for him to remember, "I should get this stuff back to Themba and the gang."

_Another good thing: Arnold's learning that he doesn't have to share personal details with everyone._ If he repeats that often enough, he'll think it's true. He notices Mason Neeley in the distance, on medicine-distribution duty today, pacing behind the table and looking just as frustrated as Kevin feels. Kevin should probably see what's up, but he can't. He doesn't even want to talk to Themba's family. He's an exposed, twitching nerve; he can't do any good like this.

Kevin makes himself approach Zareb and Daktari. He unscrews the tops of the bottles; as he hands them to the young men, he has a sudden vision of his own fingers eaten away by leprosy, and flinches. Daktari notices and drops his hands, but Kevin, blushing, keeps holding the bottles out and eventually they take them. He then half-heartedly listens to the steps involved in building a mud hut. As he leaves the young men and starts his walk back to the mission, he hears something that wipes what little he learned from his mind.

"Elder Price," says Mafala gravely. "The old man died." He's referring to the old beggar with the sores that Gotswana initially refused to treat.

"Died?"

Mafala nods, looking at something to the left. Following his gaze, Kevin sees Gotswana carrying a shovel and getting into a jeep.

"We have no way to preserve a body here," Mafala explains, apallingly matter-of-fact. "Whenever he can, Elder Hareffi digs the graves of those he loses."

_It always rains in the movies whenever someone dies._ "How?"

Mafala shrugs. "The man was old, starving, and dying of AIDS. Can you get your team ready for a funeral in two hours?"

Kevin nods. He doesn't move. The world is painfully blue sky above and beige dust below, with everything civilized hidden by wavering heat lines like a mirage in the desert. Above circles a hawk—or a vulture. Kevin has a sudden flashback to the friendly singing vultures in the _Jungle Book_.

_I can remember this, but I can't even remember what the old man looked like. _He shakes himself and starts walking.

A thought occurs to him just as he reaches the mission: _Mafala said 'my' team. Aren't we all on the same team?_

Mason is sitting on one of the couches, his eyes red; Eric Thomas is by his side, trying to hand him a bottle of water that he ignores. Brian Church paces behind his companion, his lips pursed.

"You couldn't have known," Eric says. There's an intense edge to his voice that startles Kevin until he remembers that Eric missed his sister's death from cancer.

"I could've done so much more," Mason says dully. "He talked to me in Swahili, and I—I— just ran away." He blinks. "No. I gave him a Book of Arnold, then I ran away."

"There you go," says Eric. "That might've helped!"

Mason chuckles mirthlessly. "I gave an _English_ book to a man who spoke _Swahili_." When Eric doesn't say anything, Mason runs his hands through his hair, muttering, "He started coughing up _so much_ blood...I should've—nobody should die alone—I—"

Eric drops the bottle of water, grabbing Mason's shoulders. "_Don't_. Please, Mason—don't do this to yourself. I..." Eric glances at everyone listening in, but speaks anyway, "I'm not saying don't regret. But don't let it _consume_. It's like the Book of Arnold says—" He's interrupted by Brian's loud scoff.

Mason stares through Eric. "Nobody should die alone," he repeats.

"Mason, you care a lot more than any of _them_," Brian snaps, jerking his chin to the door.

"Elder Church," says Rob in gentle warning.

Brian ignores him. "You didn't see them when we found the guy had died! They don't care. How did we ever think we could change anything here? We're praying to...comic-book characters, for God's sake!"

"We still pray to the same God, no matter what words we use." Rob's voice is too calm, too rational. Not everyone can turn off their feelings as well as he can. Eric nods, but elders Michaels and Davis don't, and Brian full out sneers at him.

"Elder Hareffi is out digging a grave," says Kevin, "like he always does whenever he loses a patient. The villagers have seen more death than we have. They have a different attitude about it, but that doesn't mean they don't care." Now elders Michaels and Davis nod. Elder Davis's shoulders relax.

"Really?" says Brian. "Who told you that, Kevin—your best friend? He's so great at being truthful, after all."

"Elder Hatimbi did. He asked if we could get ready for a funeral in a few hours, in fact. So, you see," he says to Mason, "we can give him a proper send-off." Mason's frown lessens—not by much, but it's something.

"Where's this coming from, Elder Church?" Kevin asks.

He can see the switch flick off behind Brian's eyes. "Nothing," he mutters.

"Something's bothering you. Come on, brother, let's have it out. We're family, here; if you've got something to say, you should say it." At Brian's mirthless smirk, Kevin realizes that using the ideal of family to someone urging his mother to leave his father was a misstep. _Too late now._

"You do know we're failing, right?" says Brian, looking around at everybody. "I mean, we lie so much day-to-day, why should we lie to ourselves? Where are our baptisms? We've been stuck at twenty-five members for months now!"

"We've only been the Church of Arnold for a little more than two months," Rob reminds him quietly. "We waited just as long for elders Price and Cunningham to join us. Growing anything takes time, Brian."

"Or maybe the Ugandans can sense that our church is a house built on a foundation of sand. I'm not saying we're not doing good work!" he adds quickly. "God knows, those orphans need help and these people need medicine. But...missionaries also shouldn't date or get married. That's secular—worldly. What's next? Are we going to be okay with divorce? Abortion?" He shakes his head. "If we're going to be secular, be secular, but preaching God in a way no one can truly believe in—" Kevin should interrupt but the accusation about not believing in God has him stymied. Brian sighs and continues, "—it's probably driving more people away than we realize."

Before the words can sink in, take root and bloom into doubts, Kevin finds his voice. "I believe. I feel God's presence with us every day." He has to pause to swallow; surely, Heavenly Father will strike him dead for such lies. "And, more importantly, the Ugandans believe. Sure, I roll my eyes a bit when we say 'Live long and prosper,' but I focus on the meaning behind the words. Faith is living, breathing—not solemn and stodgy! If _Star Wars _can serve as inspiration, why not the good parts of the secular world?"

"What, the world with porn and polygamists and people marrying their pets? Where's Arnold drawing that line? Because of course it's all about him. Everyone on the leadership team," he nods at Rob, Eric and Kevin, "lets him do whatever he wants. We're—_you're_—held hostage by a Latter-Day Saint _who got married on his mission_." He stares at the group, as if they're crazy for not having realized this sooner. "If he wasn't the prophet, he'd be just another member of the organization, with no more power than the rest of you.

"But because he lets you," he nods at Eric, "chase tail without your TBM parents breathing down your neck, and he lets you," a nod to Rob, "stop hating yourself, and you're," a glance at Kevin "his 'best friend,'" he makes finger quotes, "he's the prophet and whatever he says goes."

_'Dear Mom and Dad,' _Kevin composes in his thoughts, _'making leadership team councils members-only was a mistake. If they were open, everyone could see that Arnold's ideas are vetted and contained. Can't open them to everyone_—_have to keep some secrets_—_maybe separate leadership-team meetings and BoA verse-planning sessions?'_

He opens his mouth to say something like that. What comes out (along with Eric's "HEY!") is a bewildered-edging-to-angry, "What the hell was that finger-quote about?"

Brian gets out a few syllables, but Mason's mumbled, "Guys," silences him. "C'mon. A human being died today. Can we not argue now?"

Brian reluctantly pulls back. "Sure thing, Mace."

Mason buries his head in his hands. "I think this is a sign." He raises his head up. "I should go back home." He's silent during the surge of "What?" and "No, you can't," and the "Elder Neeley, we need you." Staring into the middle distance, he continues. "I wasn't going to say anything for a while, but...well, it's just my mom and my brothers back home. Without LDS funds, I can't stay the full two years. My coming home would help out _so much_. And God's obviously saying I'm not cut out for the kind of life I need to live here.

"I...I won't be leaving the church, though. I don't have much, but I'll send whatever I can." Mason tears up, and Brian glowers from his place nearby, daring anybody to say anything about his companion's tears.

Rob, as if by magic, is by Mason's side. "Let's go to my office," he says softly, and leads Mason out of the common room.

When they hear the office door close, Eric hisses, "Yeah, I'm _soooo_ proselytizing every day to pick up chicks."

"We have a funeral to get ready for," Kevin says before Brian can reply.

The Church of Arnold comes together at 10:00 PM at the cemetery. Arnold and Nabulungi, completely oblivious to the controversy swirling around them, stand with the ex-Mormons. There's no wood available for a coffin; the body has been wrapped in hospital gowns, a sight that makes Kevin a little nauseous and angry. Couldn't they at least try to be respectful?

Kevin selected the hymns: they sing Each Life that Touches Ours for Good, Abide With Me and How Great Thou Art. When the time comes for someone to speak, everyone is silent. After a while, Gotswana steps forward.

"This man gave his name as either Baraka or Barasa, I could not hear him well at the time. He told me he would fuck a million frogs if that would save his life." To Kevin's horror, some of the villagers chuckle. "One of my other patients recognized him from Yunna, where he begged in the market. I gave him medicine and told him it would save his life—a lie. He was too far gone for any help.

"He suffered the effects of malnutrition: atrophied muscles, skin rash, anemia, scurvy. This means he had little muscle, little blood, few teeth, and his skin was split and cracked. If that had been all he suffered from, he might have lived.

"But he had advanced HIV/AIDS: the advanced stage of Karposi's sarcoma lesions, tuberculosis, diarrhea. Infection devoured his flesh every second of the day. He was shitting blood when he arrived; by the end, it was pouring out every hole he had.

"All this, and he came from Yunna. Only a three-hour drive, but I asked those who first saw him, and they said he arrived on foot. In his condition, this would be a day and a half at least—in good weather and if no animals threatened. But, if I remember correctly, it had rained the day before he arrived, for two hours straight. And we have at least two hyena packs nearby, a pride of lions to the west of Yunna, and who knows how many leopards."

"Lions and hyenas and leopards—oh my!" says Mutumbo, to the snickers of the older villagers. It's such an unexpected break in tension that some of the ex-Mormons snicker, too.

Grinning, Gotswana continues. "All this, and he walked from Yunna. All this, because of hope." As tenderly as possible, Gotswana picks up the body and lays it in the grave. "This man, Baraka or Barasa or whatever his name was, was clearly fucking crazy! May the Force be with him, that he may live long and prosper."

As Kevin murmurs the prayer, the hospital gown wrappings take on a new meaning. They're made of actual cloth, and he knows from his hospital experiences how hard cloth is to get out here. Kevin glances at the villagers—Mafala, Effu, Gotswana, Mutumbo, the General, Sister Damisi, Elder Ghali, Sister Ameya—struck with the sudden realization that they'll most likely die of the horrible symptoms Gotswana described. Will he be here to give them a eulogy? Or will it be years from now when he's safe and comfortable in the US, far from cemeteries three times bigger than the village that uses them?

It's a very quiet ride back.

Before breakfast the next day, Kevin checks in on 'his' team, and finds Mason still adamant that he'll leave with Brian. For once, Rob isn't helping with breakfast. Kevin finds him in his office, slumped in his chair with his eyes closed, listening to Gotswana's boom-box play a song Kevin vaguely recognizes from the wedding. Physically, he doesn't look any worse, but that's likely only because he can't look more tired than he already does.

Rob's eye opens a crack. "Hey." His eye shuts.

Kevin sits in the chair opposite him. "You tried." He remembers ignoring Mason's agony yesterday after his run-in with Arnold and Nabulungi, and winces. "It shouldn't have been just you, and I'm—"

Rob waves a hand, shushing him. On the CD, the music and the woman singing crescendo. "_I never thought I'd come to this!_" The music and her voice are softer when she sings, "_What's it all about?_"

Rob murmurs, "Best part of the song, IMHO. _Yet,_" he sings along with the soundtrack, not quite under his breath, "_if he said he loves me_—Kevin, you can't be everywhere at once. You're helping others, and that's great. You're everything I hoped you'd be now that you're learning to turn it off._ I'd turn my head / I'd back away / I wouldn't want to know..._" His eye opens to a thin slit. "How's that _going_, by the way?" His tone is faux-solicitude covering something that will bite if Kevin makes a wrong move.

"Fine." When Rob opens his mouth, Kevin talks faster. "I thought we could make a mud hut. For visitors, officially—unofficially, I'm hoping Themba and her grandsons will stay with us. Apparently, it's not a one-man job. Guess who found that out the hard way! Could be a team-building exercise between the missionaries and the villagers—I've been hearing a bit too much 'us' versus 'them' lately. What do you think?"

Rob, both eyes closed again, titters. He selects another track by feel alone. "Oh, Kevin! You're so..." His hand makes motions as if it's trying to tug the right word out of thin air. It flaps dismissively after a few moments.

"Draw up a proposal and bring it to me later, will you?"

Kevin nods and leaves to both Rob and a man from the soundtrack singing "_Jesus I am overjoyed to meet you face to face / you've been getting quite a name all around the place..._"


	16. Chapter 16

It's three weeks after the old beggar died, and Kevin is lying in bed, listening to Arnold and Nabulungi get ready for bed as he reads his journal entries. Once, he imagined proudly showing his journal to his younger brothers and sisters (Vanessa and Katie have always talked about going on a mission, though they're not required to) to inspire them. If he still wants to do this, he'll have to do some judicious crossing out.

_July 10: 10:30 PM _—_ Two days after funeral. Got the house started_—_the goat donated waste, mixed with mud FOR HOURS. SO TIRED. A+N feel guilty about not being there for church_—_moved into my room. Brought N's bed from village. Had to hurry to find a wire and curtain. Sis. Ameya reluctantly donated blanket. Curtain separating me from A+N is J Smith rubbing his magical frog over B Young's clit nose. Themba + co. still here._

Most of that week is little more than "Worked on house," "TIRED," and "Themba + co. still here." The subject matter only changes in two sentences: "Nabu has become my and A's new companion. Maf proselytizes with Gots + his daughter." and "Nabu swears way too much!"

_July 15: 9:00 PM _—_ Preparation day. There was some trouble with the laundry. I was about to head out to the stream when Nabulungi stopped me._

_"Elder Price, do you always do the laundry?"_

_"Sure."_

_"Arnold!" She turned to Arnold, who looked up from his Kindle. "How can you let Elder Price do your laundry week after week?"_

_"I'm really bad at it," Arnold said. "And it gives me more time to work on the Book of Arnold!"_

_She looked at me suspiciously. "You don't clean this room as well, right?" Well, of course I did. That made her grumpier._

_"Arnold, I'm not your mother and neither is Elder Price! We are going to need to start a schedule. Arnold, you'll start today." Just ordered him around like he's a kid!_

_I actually LIKE doing the laundry. I like the time to myself. Anyway, I tried to explain. "Arnold REALLY is bad at laundry. One time, he forgot to do five shirts because he saw a butterfly." She laughed. She thought I was joking._

_"It had the same markings as a Butterfree!" Arnold said. (Some sort of pokemon, I think.) _

_But she crossed her arms and said "ArnOOOOOOOld" and he sighed and took the laundry basket from me. What a great dynamic to their marriage! She suckered me into another cooking lesson, as always. I should start charging._

_She let something slip during this lesson, without even thinking. "Baba always said I was terrible at this." Makes more sense how someone so smart can fail so hard at cooking. _

_Once that was done, I caught Brian alone and asked him what he meant about those finger-quotes during his big blow-out. Had to remind him what I was talking about. He shrugged. "You guys are so close. It's like you're brothers." He was uneasy_—_I didn't like reminding him about his hateful words, but I had to know what he meant. I made a point to thank him for all his work on the house. He might still be leaving, but he seems determined to mend bridges. Mason, too, though he doesn't talk a lot lately. Taking his cue from his companion, probably._

_Worked a bit more on the house (making more mud bricks), but got to have a nap after. Bit of a breeze. Heaven must be like this. _

_Arnold sucked at cleaning, big surprise_—_although it was to Nabu. She sighed and said, "Really, Arnold?" all disappointed. Arnold came back with his usual: "I didn't see that when I was cleaning!" "It's not that big a deal!" "Why make the bed_—_we just get it messy every night!"_

_"ArnOOOOOOld," she nagged._

_"Okay," he said. My mind was blown! Arnold actually grabbed the broom again and swept up._

_We'll see how long THAT lasts. _

Arnold's side of the room has been irritatingly clean so far. Oh, it's not perfect—Nabulungi's standards are more lax than Kevin's—but it's leagues better than it used to be. Frowning, Kevin turns the page.

_July 17: 8:45 PM _—_ Themba's grandson Daktari asked to join the church of Arnold! Praise Christ! (I should probably mention God a lot more in this journal.)_

_Not everyone in the village is happy. Maf mentioned church attendance will drop dead if we let lepers in. Maf is clever_—_knows what buttons to press. For a second was tempted. But I said we've accepted attempted baby-rapists and murderers_—_why should we turn people away because of something that isn't their choice? Ironically, Themba seems unhappy with Dak, too. "We'll have to fight for his soul, you and me," she joked. I'll have to keep emphasizing our church's similarity to Christianity._

_The dining room went dead silent when Themba, Daktari and Zareb came in. Nobody wanted to eat with them. I sat beside them. Arnold dragged Nabulungi over, you could tell she wanted to bolt_—_but she stayed the entire dinner, even chatted a bit._

_Think I'm going to have to be the one to look after Themba and the gang. Jesus looked after lepers, too._

_PROBABLY shouldn't compare myself to Jesus. For one thing, Jesus believed in God._

Kevin knows which sentence he's crossing out of this entry. He turns the page, blushing when he starts reading and remembers the subject of these next entries.

_July 19: 4 PM _—_ Four times a week?! I think Arnold is oversexed. Or Nabu_—_but who am I kidding probably Arnold. It can't be THAT good, can it? _

_July 19: 6 PM _—_ checked out a man today to make sure I wasnt gay GUESS WHAT! NORMAL!_

_kinda_

_where the fuck are you s'posd to look? shoulders? butt? chest? mouth? I shud just know what lust is but I dont could ask A but SOOOOOOO dont want to hear about him + N _

_July 19: 11:05 PM_

_Threw my journal to the depths of my suitcase and calmed down. I don't think Rob caught me looking, thank God. I know, intellectually, that he's an attractive man. But knowing this doesn't affect my body. Just like with Effu. What is wrong with me?_

_Since I'm going to tear this page out anyway: I took off my temple garments for the first time tonight. I'm wearing briefs, bought 'em Kampala last time we went. I kept my briefs close to my clean undergarments so the garment's holiness could sink into the briefs._

_Tonight I realized that, well, I was thinking what I just wrote, and put the darn briefs on. Goodbye holy underwear._

At the bottom of the page, in small, ragged print is: _Rob wasnt the only guy i checkd out._

Kevin grabs his pen from his backpack and puts a large X through the page, a reminder to rip it out in the future.

_July 22: 9:28 PM _—_ Mentioned the Hill Cumorah pageant to Themba today, being Brigham Young, etc. She said she'd never been in a play before. I said I didn't see why someone who's not part of the church couldn't do a little acting for us, if she wanted to_—_and she looked interested__. The Church should possibly do another rendition of "Joseph Smith: American Moses"? Will be a hard sell with the other ex-Ms. They don't have the same good memories of it that I do._

_I don't even remember what we were talking about, but she called me a sweet boy. So unexpected, sincere_—_got a bit choked up._

July 27th's entry consists of two words that take up an entire page: _HOUSE DONE!_ Kevin smiles a bit. His smile vanishes when he thinks about writing today's entry. Slowly, he moves his pen across paper.

_July 30: 10:08 PM _— _Got an email from Jack today._

Kevin stares at that for a while, then makes himself write more.

_I'd just finished updating the church blog, Facebook etc. with news about the house. Checked the Paypal account_—_$20 more. I was going to look up anti-leprosy aid groups in Uganda when I decided to check my email on a whim._

_Boy, my heart leapt when I saw Jack's name in my inbox. Then I read the email. I still can't believe it. He says Mom and Dad blame themselves for making me "snap" (that's what they're calling it!)_—_they always put too much pressure on me. It's "shell-shocked" them_—_now they're "barely around in spirit" says Jack. Since the Church of Arnold, Vanessa was caught smoking, Scott is dating an atheist, Tim even asked if he could drink beer like me someday. (Seems the video of the wedding we put up on Youtube had a few seconds of me drinking.) "I'm leaving to go on my mission in a few months," Jack says, "and I feel so torn. How can I leave with my family falling apart?"_

_You know what, Jack? SO WHAT. Not only am I NOT responsible for the choices my brothers and sisters make, these changes could be good! Let the family explore and discover life beyond the Book of Mormon! These things probably would've happened without the CoA. We're not falling apart_—_we're just changing. Deal with it. I wish you all the best on your mission_—_I truly, truly do_—_but according to my experience, I'll do more good on mine than you'll ever do on yours._

_I didn't write that. I didn't write anything. _

Kevin pauses to take a deep breath, and forces his pen onward.

_Jack wishes he wasn't my brother anymore. _

Tears well up in his eyes. The terrible words become meaningless black marks. He wipes his eyes and sniffles into a Kleenex. After regaining his composure, Kevin writes: _I'll email him next time I'm in Yunna and tell him how much I love him and everyone back home._

He can't think of anything to write, so he closes his journal. Nabulungi says the evening prayer. One good thing about the curtain is Kevin doesn't have to clasp his hands and pretend to pray anymore.

He closes his eyes and finds himself at his home during Friday-night dinner. Nobody notices him. He watches Grandma Price, Mom and Vanessa serve Mom's mashed potatoes, her chicken wings and drumsticks marinated in soy sauce, her steamed greenbeans and broccoli. In the fridge is dessert: a tub of French vanilla ice cream with strawberries and blueberries for toppings.

Everyone bows their heads to pray. As Kevin starts to bow his head, he learns that he's naked—and he's wearing his briefs. Suddenly, he knows that when his family finishes their prayer they'll be able to see him. They'll know he's not a Mormon anymore.

He tries to run from the room, but he can't. He tries to wedge himself into the china cabinet, but it's too small. He squirms under the table—thank God, this works. But he's not out of the woods yet: he can't let anybody's feet touch him, or they'll feel that he's there.

"Hey," says a genderless voice. Under the table with him is a familiar-looking young woman.

Kevin flinches aside from his sister Katie, who's using her toes to scratch one of the many mosquito-bites on her legs. "Sorry, I'm pretty busy here..."

"I was going to be here, too," says the familiar-looking woman, her voice sounding more feminine now. "With you."

Granpa shifts in his seat; Kevin just manages to jerk aside. Now, he recognizes her. "Stacy, can we talk another time?" She was his girlfriend for a whole four months, and remained his friend after she broke up with him—though he hasn't heard much from her since the Church of Arnold.

"But you made your choice," she says sadly, as he recoils from Dad's shoe as Dad crosses his legs.

"I didn't." He grabs her hand. "We can still be here. You and—damnit!" Scott aims a kick at Tim's shin, and Kevin only just withdraws his arm in time.

Stacy puts her hand on his bare chest. Kevin freezes. As he does, a shoe touches his thigh.

"What on Earth...?" says Mom.

"No," Kevin whispers. "Not her. Not her!" He twists onto his back, grabbing at the tablecloth, which slides easily into his hands, sending fake pink and yellow dollar-store flowers falling to the ground. Mom pushes her chair back. Kevin covers himself, but he knows it won't hide him.

He can feel Stacy behind him as Mom's hands drop below the table, then her long chestnut hair, then the lower half of her face.

"Elder Price?" It's not Stacy behind him, but Nabulungi, who looks confused.

"Well," he grumbles, "you I _definitely_ didn't choose."

Mom's face grows large in his vision.

"Elder Price?"

Kevin opens his eyes to a dark room, his heart pounding.

"You were having a nightmare," Nabulungi whispers. Kevin clamps down on the urge to snap in reply. He hates that Nabulungi knows when he has bad dreams. _A week and a half left_, he reminds himself, and feels better.

"Would you like to talk to Arnold?" she asks.

Once, he wouldn't have had to go through her to get to his companion. He grits his teeth. "Please."

She wakes Arnold up and slips off to the bathroom. Arnold pulls back the curtain. Kevin is so grateful to see him—the pillow crease on his cheek, the blearily blinking eyes—that it hurts.

Arnold blinks at Kevin. "YOU'RE SHIRTLESS!" That's Arnold-speak for 'So, I noticed you're not wearing your holy temple undergarments, buddy.' Arnold rips his glasses off his nose and wipes them against the top of his undergarment. Kevin knows why he's acting weird—there's no bigger physical declaration of not being part of the Mormon Church anymore.

"It's just so hot at night," Kevin says, feigning unconcern as his mind hisses _Sinner_.

Arnold giggles as if he made a joke. "Hot. Heh, yeah." He clears his throat and examines his glasses. "So, what's up?"

If this was before Nabulungi, Arnold would've leapt onto Kevin's bed and leaned in way too close. _Look how much she's helping him!_ Even though Arnold's lack of physical boundaries annoyed Kevin more often than not, Kevin feels sad.

"I, ah, had a nightmare. I think a lot of it has to do with an email I got from my brother today."

"Oh," Arnold says quietly as he sits beside Kevin on the bed, which lightens Kevin's spirits. "Not good, huh?"

Kevin gives him the gist of it. "And I just logged out of the computer. I completely forgot about the anti-leprosy aid groups," he finishes, sighing. He glances at his companion. He didn't think he'd talked that long, but it was too long for Arnold; he's staring through Kevin, his mind obviously miles away.

"Forget it," Kevin snaps. "Just go back to sleep."

Arnold flinches. "No! No, no, no! I'm listening, buddy! I just remembered a story that kinda fit! At the start of _Battlestar Galactica_, Apollo and his dad have had some bad stuff happen between them. Apollo's brother Zak died, his dad left him with his alcoholic mom when Apollo was a kid—it was pretty bad. But when the Cylons attacked, the two of 'em pulled together and became a real father and son with an awesome musical theme and everything."

_He's trying._ Kevin smiles. "So I just need robots that look like people to attack the human race and Jack and I will be fine?"

Arnold chuckles, squeezing his shoulder with damp fingers. "_Maaaaaybe_ it doesn't...um..." Blushing, he drops his hand from Kevin's shoulder. "It doesn't completely track with your situation. But families can pull together in the most unlikely situations. We can work on your reply after proselytizing tomorrow, if you want."

Kevin grins. "Thanks, pal."

Arnold jumps up. "Well," he laughs loudly, "back to bed! 'Night!" He vanishes behind the curtain. _Didn't think he'd be this freaked out over normal underwear; he was never a devout Mormon. Guess you never can know another person, can you?_

He falls asleep and wakes up to Nabulungi hissing, "Arnold! Stop!"

The sound of laboured panting gives Kevin an idea what he woke up to. His stomach sinks. He tries to keep his breathing slow and even; letting them know he woke up would embarrass everyone even further.

"Elder Price is _right there_," she hisses.

"The couch!" Arnold's excited whisper is so loud that it's better classified as 'speaking softly.' "The long couch in the common room..."

Nabulungi is silent for a moment. Then she whispers, "If you want to kiss me, kiss _me_. Do_ not _kiss me and think of your boyfriend." She sounds angrier than Kevin has ever heard her.

_Probably got distracted by some _Star Wars_ episode he could've related to my situation..._He frowns when the word 'boyfriend' catches his attention. Fear flutters in his stomach, but he shrugs it off. The simplest explanation is probably the correct one: because he and Arnold spend a lot of time together, she likes to joke that they're boyfriends._ That's mature._

"Don't call him that!" Arnold hisses, and Kevin is pleased to hear that Arnold agrees with him though he's not sure why Arnold sounds quite so vehement. "And I wasn't...wasn't thinking about..." He's silent for a while. "Oh." He gulps. "I guess...I was. I'm so sorry, Nabu—"

She cuts him off with what sounds like a kiss.

When they finish, she says, "I will let it go this once. You are lucky you are cute." They chuckle. The straw mattress crackles as they lie down. "Do you think Elder Price should date Sister Ameya? She was circumcised, so I do not think she would mind being with an asexual."

Kevin catches his breath. The words boom loud as thunder in his ears. _What? Arnold, you didn't_—_you couldn't_—

"Oh, man!" Arnold is speaking softly again. "I always thought there was something there! The way he sweet-talked her into donating a blanket for the curtain..."

Every cell of his body is tight, quivering. He remembers this kind of anger, but it's not directed at God or Nabulungi this time. _You didn't tell her I'm..._that_ word, that word I don't even like to _think—

_Turn it off. Turn it off. _He tries to conjure the image of his family turning away from him if they found out how deep his rage was—but they already hate him. _Arnold won't be my friend if I don't turn it off..._

_I DON'T CARE!_

Arnold is babbling on about the awesome double dates they could go on when Kevin leaps up from his bed.

Kevin breaks the silence by snapping, "Arnold Cunningham, you asshole!" He grabs his pillow and blanket and throws himself down on the long couch in the common room that Arnold was considering having sex on.

He wakes up once more that night when Nabulungi creeps into the common room and hangs his clean outfit for tomorrow on the doorknob of the kitchen door. She starts to say something, but leaves with whatever it was unsaid.

Kevin stares up at the ceiling. Beyond that is a night sky, cruel and empty. He's never been more certain in his life that there's no God.


	17. Chapter 17

Arnold hasn't stopped seeing his mother's tear-stained face all day. "My baby!" she wails during any second of down-time he has. "My poor sweetie! And you were doing so well, too!" The worst parts are when she gives him a teary smile and says, "It looks like we're back to where we started, baby. You can make a new best friend all over again! Won't that be fun?" Every so often, a fictional character tries to nudge their way in—a concerned Tara from _Buffy_, a mocking Starbuck from _BSG_—but they always fail.

His father adds a new verse to his mother's song now and then. "Well, gosh darn it, son, what else did you think was going to happen when you stopped following the Book of Mormon? And with all those terrible things you think when you look at that Price boy—have to say I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner."

A concerned Rob catches up with Arnold and Nabulungi as they head into the dining hall that morning. "So, ah, I caught Elder Price on the couch when I went to get breakfast started. He didn't tell me much, but he seems to think he'll be sleeping there for the near future. And that's just not right, right?" He chuckles, but stops when no one else chuckles with him. "I'd like it if you three had a mediated discussion after dinner. Does that sound all right?"

Arnold can't speak. It's up for Nabulungi to say, "Yes, thank you, Elder McKinley."

"It's not going to help," Arnold says once Rob leaves.

"It will," she says definitely, kissing his cheek. "If it does not immediately, then it will be a start. You will see." Arnold wishes she could be less optimistic and more realistic sometimes.

Kevin barely looks at him all day. He proselytizes with Mafala and Gotswana. Arnold waits in agony until after dinner, when all three of them go into Rob's office. Thankfully, Rob's moved the desk outside, and has chairs arranged in a circle. Nabulungi sits between Kevin and Arnold; she holds Arnold's hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Kevin leans his elbows on his knees, glowering at the floor, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Okay," says Rob as he closes the door. "Thanks for coming, everyone." He's carrying a notepad and pencil, which he holds ready to use. "Now, what I want us to do is unpack what happened last night using non-judgemental language. Instead of accusing, focus instead on what you feel. As always, whatever you say here doesn't leave the room. Shall we bow our heads?"

Arnold is sure Rob's prayer is lovely, but he completely tunes it out when Kevin-in-Arnold's-head hisses, "How dare you. You were attracted to me this whole time and you let me find out about it like this? Serves me right for ever being friends with an ugly, fat, four-eyed—"

"...live long and prosper," Rob finishes. He looks at the group. "Why don't you explain why you were sleeping on the couch last night, Elder Price?"

After a long sigh, Kevin speaks. "Last night, I woke up to hear these two whispering to each other. It turns out that Sister Ha—Sister Cunningham knows something about me that I told Elder Cunningham in confidence." He snorts. "All this is my fault, I guess: I didn't tell him specifically it was a secret. I just assumed he'd figure it out. Because it's something that I—" He breaks off, then continues with, "Anyway, I got angry and left." Arnold waits for Kevin to add something about him being bi. He doesn't.

_He didn't hear. _A knot loosens in Arnold's stomach. _Thank you, Heavenly Father!_

"Elder Cunningham, Sister Cunningham—would you explain why we're here in your own words?" Rob asks.

Arnold opens his mouth, but Nabulungi starts talking. "Elder Price is mistaken. I only guessed at...that. Arnold told me nothing about it."

"Really?" Kevin snorts. "That's a _very _specific word for a non-native English—"

Rob interrupts. "Elder Price, please wait until they're finished. Elder Cunningham, will you explain what happened last night?"

Sweat dribbles down Arnold's forehead. He wants to lie so badly that telling the truth physically hurts, like taking a blow to the stomach. "Nabulungi, you don't have to protect me. Elder Price is right. I did tell Nabulungi something that Elder Price told me. I knew better, and...I did it anyway." He turns to Kevin, pleading. "I thought she could help."

"Help," Kevin says flatly, glaring at Nabulungi.

"It was wrong." Arnold goes through the motions of swallowing, though his throat is bone dry. "I get that now. I, uh, guess I'm just not used to having...well, more than one friend. And I'm not used to boundaries, either."

"_G__et_ used to them," Kevin snaps, and Arnold ducks his head.

"Let Elder Cunningham talk, Elder Price," Rob says. "You'll get your chance to reply."

"I will," Arnold tells Kevin. "I _will_ get used to them, I swear. I never meant to hurt you or make you mad! Just give me a chance and I'll be a better friend." He can't go back to going to movies alone, birthday parties with just Mom and Dad, hitting 'reply' or refreshing a website instead of talking face to face. Guiltily, he glances at Nabulungi, reminding himself that she'll be there.

But he wants Kevin, too.

Kevin keeps glaring at the floor. After a few moments of silence, Rob prompts, "Elder Price, do you have something to say to Elder Cunningham?"

"That's not the only reason I'm angry," Kevin snaps. "Let's talk about why I woke up." He glares between Arnold and Nabulungi. "You two were at _least_ kissing—probably more—with me in the bed right next to you! You," he glances at Nabulungi, "stopped it, so thanks for that. Would've been nice if it hadn't _started_." When Rob clears his throat, Kevin corrects himself. "I feel disrespected that you two made out right next to me. I thought it was clear that I'd give you whatever alone-time you wanted."

_Crap_—_when did Nabulungi call him my 'boyfriend'?_ The memory unfurls: after Nabulungi hissed "Stop!" If Kevin knows she stopped them, then he heard Nabulungi call Kevin Arnold's boyfriend.

Arnold's thoughts narrow to a constant scream: _PLEASE, GOD_—_SAVE ME!_

"Would either of you like to respond?" Rob asks when neither of them say anything.

Nabulungi takes a breath. "I apologize, Elder Price. Once again, I did not respect your space. It should not have happened."

"I started it," Arnold mutters. "It's not her fault."

Kevin stares at him, jaw clenched, and Arnold wants to sink into the floor.

"So, Elder Cunningham, what do you think Elder Price is saying?" asks Rob.

"He's saying that we shouldn't do that again. And I completely agree. I...um..." 'Felt horny' is probably the wrong thing to say, considering Kevin doesn't know what it feels like. "Nevermind. But I'm sorry, pal."

Rob continues. "Now, the big question: Elder Price, do you think you can sleep in your room tonight?"

Kevin runs his fingers through the hair he normally keeps immaculately in place. "If everyone," he shoots Arnold a suspicious glance, "remembers what they promised."

"I WILL!" says Arnold, Nabulungi nodding beside him. "WE BOTH WILL!"

Rob claps his hands together, beaming. He summarizes what each person said, what the issues are and how they can be resolved. Arnold listens with half an ear; his main focus is Kevin. Every so often Kevin glowers at him, but the heat of his anger seems to have cooled. If Kevin isn't that angry anymore...and he heard Nabulungi call him Arnold's boyfriend... _If he heard..._

"Wait!" Arnold blurts out, startling Rob and Kevin. "Elder Price, you heard _everything_ after Nabulungi said stop? Like, _everything_-everything?"

Kevin looks confused. "Yeah."

"And," Arnold can barely catch his breath, "you're...okay with what you heard?"

Kevin shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be?" He glances at Rob, and Arnold suddenly gets it. Of course Kevin isn't saying anything obvious because Rob's here. He thinks Arnold wants to keep his bisexuality a secret.

A surge of relief drowns any coherent thought Arnold has. He finds himself lunging at Kevin and hugging him, babbling, "THANKS, BUDDY! THIS MEANS _SO_ MUCH! I DIDN'T WANT IT TO GET IN THE WAY OF OUR FRIENDSHIP, BECAUSE IT'S JUST A STUPID CRUSH—"

"What?" says Kevin.

"What?" from Rob.

"What?" Arnold parrots weakly, pulling back enough to see the stunned confusion on Kevin's face.

There's a pause as Arnold drops his arms and collapses back into his seat. The sweat rolling down his back becomes ice water. Then the lie hits, beautiful and enriching as rain after a drought.

"Oh gosh," he murmurs, cringing in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Nabulungi!"

Nabulungi looks down at her hands, which she clasps in her lap.

"Argh, I'm messing everything up again," Arnold moans. After a moment, he clears his throat and glances at Kevin, who still looks confused. "Guess you kinda figured it out by now, huh?" He makes himself laugh awkwardly—it doesn't require much acting skill. "She's got a bit of a...well...crush. Um. On you."

Nabulungi crosses her arms over her chest, sulky and irritated. "_Thank you_, Arnold." His heart skips a beat when he can't tell if she's acting or not. _I'll make it up to you, honey, I promise!_

"I tease her about it," Arnold continues, "and it's become a joke. That's why she said...uh, what was it...how she wasn't going to kiss me where she could be heard by her boyfriend."

Kevin's gaze sharpens as it fixes on Nabulungi. "You said 'my' boyfriend?"

"Yes," she grumbles, not looking anywhere near Kevin, the picture of embarrassment. There—with both him and Nabulungi saying the same thing, Kevin will have no choice but to think he misheard. From Kevin's assessing stare, it's already happening. Case closed.

"Okay!" Rob breaks in, gesturing to the group. "Do we want to keep exploring this? It might be best if we stepped back and processed our emotions for a moment."

"I could process, sure," says Arnold. _Process my awesomeness...well, actually, God's awesomeness. I couldn't have done this without Him! _He can't help but chuckle. _Pretty ironic that my friendship is saved by lies._

_Futurama_'s Bender glares at him. "That's not ironic! That's just coincidence!" Arnold's other fandom friends are are in the back of his mind, where his lies and stories live.

"No," says Kevin quietly.

Arnold freezes. "Huh?"

"No." Kevin's gaze locks on Arnold. "I remember what I heard. She didn't say 'my'. She didn't! She—"

Kevin bursts out laughing.

Blood rushes to Arnold's face. When Kevin doubles over, still howling, tears prickle in the corners of Arnold's eyes. He's found something worse than Kevin being angry at him or disgusted with him: Kevin mocking him. He flashes back to every "Fatty!" and "Loser!", every snicker and sneer and eye-roll when he tried to join in or make friends. Only Nabulungi's hand holding his own keeps him from bolting.

Noticing Arnold's expression, Kevin gasps for air and manages, "I'm not—heh!—laughing _at_ you...just—hah!—at the situation..."

"THAT'S NOT FUNNY, EITHER!" Arnold bellows.

Kevin inhales deeply; after a chortle or two, he finally stops. He shares a look with Rob; something passes between them that's too complicated for Arnold to grasp. Kevin then gulps and turns to Nabulungi. "Sister Ha—Cunningham, could you please step outside for a moment?"

Arnold needs Nabulungi now more than ever. "Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of her! Now what's your problem, Elder Price?"

Kevin seems to shrink, becoming watchful and tense; becoming so unlike his confident, easy self that Arnold starts in surprise. Kevin licks his lips, the mutters, "If you do have, well, a crush on me... I'm okay with that. I really, _really_ am."

"Then why were you LAUGHING AT ME?" Arnold demands. Nabulungi squeezes his hand. In sympathy? In warning? He can't risk looking away from Kevin to find out.

"I was laughing because...well, if I'd known this earlier and realized...certain things...about me..." He blushes, his gaze flicking to and from Nabulungi. "Things might've gone different. But they didn't!" he adds quickly. "And the last thing I want to do is change anything!" Kevin examines his shoes intently. "I can pair up with Elder Hatimbi for proselytizing. It'll...probably help."

_"We're not friends!" _Kevin shouted once. _"I just got stuck with you by the Missionary Training Centre!"_ Arnold's voice trembles. "You...you don't want to be my companion anymore?"

Startled, Kevin stares at him. "Of course I do!"

"Then why—?"

"Because I want..." Again, Kevin glances at Nabulungi, then away. He falls silent.

Then Arnold gets it. "_Nabulungi_?"

Kevin groans in frustration. "No!" He gulps, inhales shakily, and glances from Nabulungi to Arnold. "Buddy, you gave me back my_ faith_. It's not...exactly what it was..." He shrugs. "But that's...not really important right now. I just...pal, you mean..._so much_ to me..." He gives a small smile; combined with the warmth in his brown eyes, Arnold's stomach flip-flops.

Arnold has seen Kevin's expression before. It's what Nabulungi gets when she looks at him. He wants to run and hide; to say they've both made a mistake, obviously, because something so amazing can't happen twice in one lifetime.

"Elder Price," Nabulungi says gently, though Kevin flinches back as if expecting a blow, "I want you to be at Arnold's side. I do not want my presence to change what is between you." She kisses Arnold's flushed cheek, whispering, "Just remember: you don't leave me," into his ear. To Kevin, she says, "And if you want to change what is between you to...something else, we can discuss how that might work."

As Kevin starts and begins saying that Nabulungi has obviously misinterpreted the situation, Arnold thinks, _Nabulungi...and Kevin...?_

"Oh, Arnold, _please_ get this crazy out of your head," says Buffy, Angel and Spike behind her. "You're not cookie-dough! You've done baking, and Nabulungi is eating cookie-you!"

"You know she's only pretending to accept you and Kevin," says Katniss Everdeen, with Peeta and Gale behind her. "Of course she hates it. Any normal person would." Peeta and Gale nod.

"You can still be friends with him," adds Bella Swann, a shirtless Jacob and sparkling Edward behind her. "That can work out!"

"She's right," says Amy Pond, Rory, wearing his Roman centurion outfit, and the Doctor behind her. "I chose Rory but still had sweet adventures with the Doctor. You just have to be sensitive. Um, you'll have to work on that, obviously! But with a little luck..."

He dimly hears Nabulungi saying that, yes, she knows what adultery is, she's just not sure that's the correct word for this situation.

The Doctor steps forward. "Although, changing the rules is very humany-wumany. Never thought you'd be a prophet, did you? The human race is so full of glorious possibilities!"

Jack Harkness leans in. "Did you _see_ Kevin's ass in that underwear?"

_But I don't have witty banter by Joss Whedon! I don't have Ron Moore scripting my emotionally-difficult conversations! When I screw up, I won't get a plot that'll help me out of it! I'll just get...real life! And that sucks!_

The Doctor scoffs good-naturedly. "Oh, come on! Everybody's a little bit scared of the TARDIS. You never know exactly where it's going to take you—but that's half the fun!"

Jack Harkness adds, "Kevin's. Ass."

"...no right word," Kevin is saying, his voice rising in frustration, "because things like this just don't..." Catching Arnold's eye, he says, "Elder Cunningham, please tell Sister Hatim—Cunningham that...she's...confused." He's shaking his head as if he can't believe what he's hearing.

"Did you mean what you said?" Arnold asks Nabulungi.

She smiles. "I did." He watches her intently; she doesn't seem to be lying.

"Really?"

Her smile is replaced by an exasperated eye-roll. "_Yes_. You could believe me when—" She stops herself. "That is for another time, I think." Letting go of his hand, she nudges him toward Kevin, who's gaping at them.

Having no idea what to say, Arnold goes with the first thing that comes to mind. "So...want to be my boyfriend?"

Kevin stares into the middle distance. Maybe he has voices in his head, too. God, probably, though Kevin has been weirdly silent about God lately. If not God, then his bishop, his parents, his family and community—and all of them would be screaming 'No!' His eyes dart left and right. Arnold recognizes the same frantic build-up from when Kevin ran from the mission on his second day in Uganda. In a sudden flurry of movement, Kevin leaps up from his chair, throws the door open, and bolts.

Arnold slouches. "I broke him."

Nabulungi sighs in commiseration and kisses his cheek. "Tomorrow is a latter day."

"Thanks."

"Well!" says another voice, and Arnold starts when he remembers Rob is still in the room.

Rob clears his throat, then gives them a small smile. Arnold waits for him to say something wise and kind, something that'll put everything in perspective.

"I _knew_ you were lying about never having a Hell dream!" Rob crows, pointing at Arnold.

Arnold vaguely remembers mentioning something like that a few months ago. "I wasn't."

"Oh." Rob blushes. "Ah, sorry." Then he's normal-Rob once more, gentle and controlled. "How wonderful that you had someone there for you," he gives Nabulungi an especially kind smile, "when you discovered this side of yourself! Now, about Elder Price—"

What is Rob on about? "Nabulungi wasn't there when I was thirteen."

"You were saying about Elder Price?" Nabulungi asks quickly.

The temperature in the room is suddenly much lower. "Seven years without a Hell dream?" Rob asks, no inflection in his voice.

Arnold shrugs. "Well, sure. God made me with these feelings and God loves me—"

"If you know anything about Elder Price that might help us talk to him—" Nabulungi interrupts, but Rob doesn't even look at her.

"—So I just never had a Hell dream, I guess." Rob's steady stare is getting unnerving; Arnold squirms in his seat.

Rob stands up. At the expression on his face, Arnold inadvertantly flinches, expecting a beating. Instead, Rob moves to the door, saying in a strained voice, "I have to check on Eric—toodles!"

It takes Arnold until he reaches the door to his, Nabulungi and Kevin's room to figure out how that could've gone better. "I'm going to tell him I had nightmares of my dad catching me with a guy, okay?"

"Maybe sleep on it," Nabulungi advises.

They enter their room. Kevin is behind the curtain, writing frantically in his journal. Arnold steps forward, but Nabulungi shakes her head and he stops. Arnold pulls out his Kindle, and he and Nabulungi cuddle as they read _The Fellowship of the Ring_.

After a few hours, Kevin pulls the curtain back. Arnold and Nabulungi share a glance; Kevin has never done that before.

"I've got a bit of a speech here for Elder Neeley." Kevin holds up his journal. "It might get him to rethink leaving."

"Oh." Arnold feels disappointed for a moment. "Okay."

"Mind if I...?" He gestures to their bed. "So you can both read it."

Nabulungi moves so that he and Kevin are sitting side by side; she sits beside Arnold, holding his hand. Arnold leans in to see the pages.

_Mason,_

_I know you feel lost right now. Believe it or not, I know the feeling. You didn't act the way you felt you should, and someone suffered for it. But you are stronger than you feel at this moment. You can learn from this and do better next time, work through the pain. There might be more coming_—_I want to say that this is the worst that will happen on our mission, but I can't. _

Arnold abruptly realizes that Kevin doesn't need to be quite as close as he is to show off his journal. Furthermore, he realizes that Kevin is aware of it: he keeps glancing at Arnold. No, not Arnold—Nabulungi. She meets Kevin's eyes once, smiles, then goes back to reading. A few moments after that, Kevin lets out a breath that he must've been holding for a while.

Grinning, Arnold goes back to reading the journal.


	18. Epilogue

The Church of Arnold drops two of its members off at the Kampala airport on the first Friday of the church's fourth month. From the rearview mirror, Arnold watches a plane soar high in the sky. Maybe it's the one Brian and Mason are on.

_I'll be on a plane like that in a year and a bit_, Arnold realizes. _Me and Kevin and Nabulungi. Oh, man_—_I should see if Mom can organize eBay auctions for my rare figures and comic books. Dad'll respect me if I pay Nabulungi's way!_ He's not sure how much money he needs. That bothers him, but only for a moment. He has loads of time to find out.

"I still do not understand Elder Neeley," Mafala complains from the back seat of the jeep. "One dead man and he leaves?" He smells, as usual, like hay and goat—Emma Frost sleeps where Nabulungi used to. He says a goat pen is just an invitation for any lion and hyena around, though rumour has it that he feeds the goat scraps from his plate and he pets her like a dog. "We did not even know his name! Fuck."

"Some people are more sensitive than others, Baba."

"I just pray he finds what he's looking for," says Kevin, the driver. "Him and Brian." Brian's goodbye was typically curt, but Mason gave a nice speech about how he supports everyone and they'll be in his prayers every night.

"Yeah," says Arnold. He almost calls for another round of prayer, but they've done a lot of praying for a lot of people today. If God can't hear them by now, then they caught Him napping.

When the jeep caravan stops for gas, Rob comes over to the rest of the leadership team. There's still the hint of bags under his eyes, but he looks like he's been sleeping a lot better lately. Arnold likes to think that making up a few nightmares to tell Rob helped with that. "We should pay attention to elders Davis and Michaels, see if we can work towards some healing. Ever since Brian's big speech a few weeks ago, they've been a little...antsy."

"I noticed," Nabulungi says. "I also heard that Effu refused to serve the lep— Themba and her family yesterday."

Rob grimaces. "Yeah, heard that from Eric."

She nods seriously, then brightens. "They have been spending a lot of time together lately! What do you think—serious or just playing?"

"Heck, I walked in on him showing her a picture of his dead sister." Rob smiles, but the look he shoots Eric, who's filling the gas tank, is worried. "Seems pretty serious."

"You've been pretty serious about volunteering at the hospital lately," Arnold notes innocently. "Any reason?"

Rob bats the question away. "Gotswana needs help cataloguing supplies, and you know me and my list-mania."

"And you're just _available_ to help out," Arnold adds.

Rob throws his hands in the air. "To catalogue supplies! Honestly," he glances about, voice falling to a whisper, "his daughter is three years _older_ than me!" After a huge shudder, he leaves, probably to avoid more pestering about his non-existent love-life.

When they get back to the village, Kevin gives Arnold's shoulder a quick squeeze. It's the only time he's touched Arnold in public since their unspoken agreement last week. Nabulungi told Arnold to go slowly with Kevin, so Arnold stifles the urge to grab Kevin's hand and squeeze it, though he does grin broadly. Kevin leaves for a soccer game with some of the villagers—the newly baptized Daktari, along with his brother Zareb, in attendance.

Arnold and Nabulungi head back to their room. Arnold floated the idea of Kevin staying with them; though Nabulungi seemed agreeable, Kevin was anything but. "We can't afford controvesy right now, buddy. Let's just keep things normal, okay?" Without the curtain and the third bed, their room feels incomplete, though Arnold doesn't mention this to his wife.

Nabulungi sits in front of her typewriter and starts working on "The Peace of Jesus," the Church of Arnold's newest play. They're going to perform it in the market once it's done.

"Do you think some of the Ewoks should have leprosy?" she asks.

The scene unfurls behind Arnold's eyes: Joseph Smith and _Voyager_'s Doctor in the promised land of Salt Lake City, healing Ewoks so they can dance with the Mormons. "That's brilliant!" It's not the story from the Book of Arnold, but they can revise the book.

"What should Joseph Smith say?"

"The universal greeting, Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep mini bong, so the Ewoks will trust them!" Arnold sits down beside his wife.

Nabulungi chuckles. "You will have to spell that for me!"

Arnold only realizes that he's forgotten to feel sad when, hours later, Kevin knocks on the door and interrupts them. He's unsurprised when Kevin asks to borrow his Kindle—he's been devouring _The Hunger Games_ lately—but he is surprised when, a little while later, Kevin asks to talk to him for a sec, looking twelve-cups-of-coffee tense. He ushers Arnold into his room and closes the door behind him.

_This is probably about Jack. Darn it, Jack_—_why can't you just be nice to your big brother? _As much as he hurts for Kevin, he kind of understands Jack's position. Having Kevin as an older brother seems a tough job; it must be even tougher when the golden boy fails.

"Katniss just shot the apple out of the pig's mouth!" says Kevin a bit too loudly, as he leans against the door. "How awesome is this book, huh?"

"It's pretty sweet, yeah."

"I can't believe I didn't want to read this series! It's so addictive." Kevin is silent for a few moments—listening, Arnold realizes. He exhales in a loud huff. Focusing on Arnold, he laughs breathlessly and wipes his palms on his black pants.

"So, Jack replied to your em—" Arnold stops talking when Kevin kisses him. It's less than five seconds; very Mormon of him. Kevin is frowning—irritated, it looks like—when he pulls back.

Frowning has never been part of Arnold's fantasies of being with Kevin. _He's supposed to push me down onto the bed_—_or slip out of his tie all sexy_—_or kiss my neck when I start babbling_—Arnold forces himself to focus on what's happening now, not what he wishes were happening.

Kevin huffs again and rolls his shoulders before he darts in for another kiss. _He's psyching himself up, just like he does before playing sports!_ That takes most of the fun out of the arms around Arnold's shoulders and the fingers sliding through his hair. Kevin stays close—so close that when Arnold starts stroking his cheek, he feels Kevin flinch.

Kevin breaks the kiss and the hug. "Sorry," he mutters. "Gimme a sec. I can do this."

_Oh, poor, poor Kev!_ "Pal, you don't have to."

Kevin winces, stung. "I can!" he snaps. "I should!" He swallows. "I care so much about... This is easy for everyone else..."

"Don't think about what's right for everyone else." As usual, Arnold doesn't know where the words come from, but they feel right. "Think about what's right for _you_. With this, that's all that's important, understand?"

Kevin swallows again and looks at the ground. After a while, he says, "You're really wise," in a quiet, awed voice.

"All part of being a prophet."

"You deserve a...someone that can kiss you, though. And...do other things."

"You know I have a wife, right?" Chuckling, Arnold squeezes Kevin's shoulder.

"I know." Kevin shudders, but he's smiling at the same time. "Asking her for a few minutes of alone-time with you was the hardest thing I've had to do in my life!"

Arnold frowns, stopping Kevin's chuckle in its tracks. "I last a lot longer than a few minutes!" he says, hurt that Nabulungi didn't lie and tell Kevin otherwise.

Kevin doesn't get it for a while; he winces when he does. "Ew! I was just going to kiss—jeez! What do you think I am—easy?"

He's so offended and so serious that Arnold bursts out laughing. Just as he starts thinking about an apology, Kevin snickers grudgingly. Suddenly, he's got Arnold in a tight hug.

"This feels right," he whispers. Kevin probably doesn't get that his breath on Arnold's ear makes warmth settle in the pit of his stomach. _But that's fine_, Arnold reminds himself. _I have real-Kevin, and that's good enough._

_Maybe._

To make up for this traitorous thought, Arnold says, "I love you." He's not a hundred percent sure he means 'I'm _in love_ with you'—what he feels for Kevin is different than what he feels for Nabulungi—but all he needs to do is convince Kevin, who's been easy to convince lately.

"Mmhm. So, I should get you back to her." The reason Kevin feels the need to do this is obvious when he steps into their room, closes the door and says, "Thanks, Sister Cunningham."

She chuckles. "I heard you the first five times, Elder Price."

"I just..." Kevin starts, then tries again, "we only...uh..." The blush spreading across his face seems to steal his words.

"You cannot force these things, Elder Price. It will happen when it happens."

Arnold shifts his weight from foot to foot. Not only is it pretty weird to have his wife giving his boyfriend romance tips, Nabulungi doesn't get what asexuality means. Seeing Kevin's stiff nod in reply, Arnold knows he'll have to make a better effort to help her understand.

"Do you mind if I borrow the Kindle, Elder Price?" Nabulungi asks. "I would like to read more _Lord of the Rings_."

Kevin hesitates for a fraction of a second, but says, "Sure. Can I recommend _The Hunger Games_ next? It's really incredible."

Nabulungi makes a face. "Starving people killing each other for food is far too much like my real life."

"Oh, heck, I guess it might be. Sorry."

"It is nothing. Would you like to read the play? The Ewoks also have leprosy, but do not worry—we still have a part for Themba."

"Great!" Kevin takes the script. "I know she's going to love it."

When he leaves to get the Kindle, Arnold glances at Nabulungi. "Do you think we should tell him about our latest honeymoon idea?" He can't wait to see Kevin's face.

"Perhaps we should wait until we have three tickets to Orlando in hand." Nabulungi never says Arnold should do anything, but what she suggests is always right.

Arnold sighs. "That's so far away, though!"

She kisses his cheek. "It's something to look forward to."


End file.
